<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>All the Stars In Galactonium by Skutter</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27903259">All the Stars In Galactonium</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skutter/pseuds/Skutter'>Skutter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stellar Firma (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, But ends up falling for the help instead, David thinks he loves Bathin, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, No beta we kayak like Tim, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, ambiguous description of how David 7 saved Stellar Firma, he/they David 7, my first fic please be gentle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:00:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,034</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27903259</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skutter/pseuds/Skutter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After achieving unwanted fame as the hero of Stellar Firma, David 7 finds himself face to face with his personal hero and crush, Bathin Galactonium. But as the opportunity for friendship and a relationship opens up, David 7 finds that it may not be the wealth and adventures of the Great Duke of Galactonium that his heart desires after all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bathin/David 7 (Stellar Firma), David 7/Original Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Meeting the Duke</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is the first fan fic I've written in years, and the first time I've felt brave enough to post publicly. Not sure how many chapters there will be yet, or how smutty its going to get, but I will update the tags as necessary and provide any relevant details in the chapter headings.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was all a bit much, really. All David 7 had been looking for was a place where he could quietly and peacefully exist. A place where he didn't have to worry about Trexel stumbling in blind drunk at 5:30 every evening. A place where guns didn't come out of the walls at the slightest sign of insubordination. A place where Standards couldn't track him down, whispering about some ominous destiny and IMOGEN couldn't lock him in for defying board protocol. So he had run, mostly. Run and hid and moved on, time and time again as his position was discovered until, somehow, by running and hiding and digging deeper and deeper into the bowels of Stellar Firma he had discovered everything. The lies, the cover ups, the rotting interiors of the gigantic corporate machine; and somehow because of all of this he was being hailed as some kind of a hero.</p><p>And it was just all a bit much. </p><p>David 7 wriggled further down onto his cot and pulled his blankets further up over his head. He had been offered a permanent residence on the station; an enormous room complete with a four poster bed, a private bar, an en suite, and a research corner completed with a terminal which plugged directly into IMOGEN. David had spent an entire half of a night in that huge, opulantely draped bed before he had a panic attack and scampered back to his old office, set up his old pod, and snuggled down into his old, creaky cot. It was small, compact, and safe; just the right size for a clone. Trexel could (and happily did) take the master suite. He was just David 7. Little old David 7, and the only thing he wanted was to live out the rest of his life in peace and quiet and obscurity. <br/>The next morning, David was awoken by a hand gently shaking his shoulder. With a startled squeak, David hiked the blankets up to his nose and stared at his intruder with wide, mismatched eyes. </p><p>"Excuse me," said the you woman who had awoken him, quickly drawing back her hand. "Mr., uh, Mr. Seven?"</p><p>"Well, uh," David said slowly, his voice faintly muffled by the blankets, "I think that technically, David is my surname and Seven is my first name. All of my model are called David, you see, but my unique designator would be-..."</p><p>"Mr. David, then," the young woman cut him off. "My name is Gretchen and I'm with cosmic relations. You'd best get up and get dressed."</p><p>"Umm, sure," David replied uncertainly, lowering the blankets from his face. "Um. Why?"</p><p>"We just received a hail from the Turpsachorde Vont."</p><p>David blinked slowly. Gretchen was staring at him expectantly. The name Turpsachorde Vont was evidently supposed to inspire some kind of reaction in him; unfortunately, David was completely uninformed as to what sort of reaction that was meant to be. "I-I'm sorry," he said at last. "The, uh... the who?"</p><p>Gretchen's face remained mostly impassive, though she couldn't quite stop the exasperated sigh that escaped through her nostrils. "The Turpsachorde Vont?" she repeated. "The Great Duke Bathin of Galactonium's ship? It's Bathin, Mr. David. The Great Duke Bathin of Galactonium is here to see you."</p><p>David's brain had short-circuited somewhere between "Bathin" and "you" and was refusing to process the information in between. "I-I-I'm sorry, you said that Bathin is here? And he-he-he..."</p><p>"Is here," said Grethcen, helpfully.</p><p>"He is here, to-to-to..."</p><p>"To see," Gretchen supplied.</p><p>"To see... to see someone?"</p><p>"To see you, Mr. David."</p><p>"Why?" David 7 squeaked.</p><p>"Well, you're the one who saved Stellar Firma, innit?"</p><p>"Not on purpose!" </p><p>"I don't think that much matters at this point, Mr. David," Gretchen said, folding her arms and glancing impatiently at the door. "His ship is docking now. I'm sure the press isn't far behind him. It never is. You'd better get dressed right quick and come down." Gretchen stopped, blushing suddenly as she remembered that despite all appearances, she was talking to The Hero Of Stellar Firma. "That is, if you want to. No one could stop you from stumbling down in two hours in your pajamas. I suppose whatever kind of impression you want to give is fine. Um, excuse me." Gretchen turned and started for the door. She paused on the threshold and looked back. David 7 was sitting up on his cot, his eyes glazed and his hands  balled into fists, restlessly wringing the sheet between them. "But, it is..."</p><p>David gave a start and looked up. "I'm sorry?"</p><p>"I mean," Gretchen cleared her throat and turned to face David, hands clasped professionally behind her back. "It's not my place to say, of course, but... what you do next is going to reflect back on all clones everywhere, sir; and that is important to you, isn't it?"</p><p>David's mouth opened. After a moment, it closed again. David swallowed hard and nodded. </p><p>"Then maybe... maybe a bit of haste is called for, Mr. David."</p><p>With that, Gretchen turned and marched out, allowing the door to slide closed behind her with a hydraulic hiss. <br/>***</p><p>David 7 bounced anxiously on his heels as the lift took him up to the main deck of the Stellar Firma station. The past ten minutes had been spent in an atmosphere of wild panic and despair. What was he supposed to wear to meet Bathin of Galactonium, the Great Duke and the most famous adventurer of the galaxy? Well, his options had been his day onesie, his night onesie, or the onesie which had been largely burned away by one of Hartro’s “Team Building Exercises”, so the day onesie it was! It had then taken him another seven minutes of running through twisting hallways to find the lift which connected the build deck to the rest of the station. It hadn’t even been until a few weeks ago that David had ever even left his room for the first time, and with build functions temporarily shut down while the company was investigated and restructured there were no helpful employees to point him in the right direction. Now he was flushed, out of breath, and at what he assumed was roughly seventy percent of the overall stress levels his body could handle before he simply dissolved back into a puddle of clone goo. </p><p>“I-IMOGEN,” David panted. A faint beep echoed in the narrow lift, indicating that IMOGEN was listening. “Has, uh, has Bathin reached the reception hall yet?”</p><p>There was a faint pause, and then IMOGEN’s chipper voice replied “Undeterminable.”</p><p>“Umm, what do you mean?”</p><p>“Due to the majority of remaining station employees relocating to the reception hall to greet The Great Duke Bathin of Galactonium, my sensors are unable to determine whether or not he has boarded the station.”</p><p>“The majority of the station?” David repeated. </p><p>“All employees appear to be eager to see how David 7 will be treated by Bathin and galactic news agencies.” </p><p>The flush drained from David’s face. Eighty percent. Eighty percent stress capacity. Clone goo was surely imminent.</p><p>Suddenly, the lift juddered and slowed to a halt. </p><p>“Obstruction in vents detected,” IMOGEN intoned. “This lift has been stopped for your safety until the obstruction has been cleared.”</p><p>David clapped his hands over his face and groaned. “What in the Board’s name could possibly be-...”</p><p>There was a heavy thump on the top of the lift, and then the maintenance hatch on the top began to raise. </p><p>A sudden, dreadful certainty came over David. “Don’t tell me-...”</p><p>“Geistman detected,” IMOGEN chirped. “Security alerted.” </p><p>With all the grace and aplomb of a sack of pudding being dropped over a balcony railing, Trexel Geistman fell into the lift next to David 7. </p><p>Terxel blinked up at David’s horrified face, his own vision swimming dizzily out of focus until he was able to pull himself together enough to sit up and scowl. “David! What’s in the Board’s Damned name are you doing in my lift?”</p><p>“Trexel!” David gasped, just barely managing not to shout. “Were you crawling through the lift shafts?”</p><p>“Obstruction cleared,” IMOGEN said, sounding annoyed but unsurprised. “The lift service will now resume.”</p><p>“Don’t be stupid, David,” Trexel said, pulling himself to his feet and then falling straight back to his arse as the lift began moving again. “I was crawling through the vents and fell into the lift shaft.”</p><p>“Why were you in the vents, Trexel?” David demanded. He reached down and clasped Trexel by the forearm, hauling him to his feet. “Isn’t it far too early for you to be up, anyway?”</p><p>“Sometimes I get up early, David,” Trexel scoffed, swaying back and forth on his feet. “You know that drinks are half priced before noon.”</p><p>“Of course,” David muttered under his breath.</p><p>“What did you expect?” IMOGEN beeped.</p><p>“And then suddenly, everyone left!” Trexel threw his hands dramatically into the air. “Which normally wouldn’t be a problem for me, but toby locked the taps down before he went and I couldn’t pick the lock on the drinks cupboard with a swizzle stick, so I had to leave to find someone to serve me a Boards Damned drink!”</p><p>“So why didn’t you just, you know, walk? In the halls? Or use the stairs? Or call a lift?” Ninety percent. This is what ninety percent stress capacity must feel like. Were his feet turning to goo, or was that just the sweat filling his shoes? “No, you know what? It doesn’t matter. I’ve got a lot to worry about and I don’t have the time to figure out…” David paused and looked meaningfully at Trexel. “You.” </p><p>A second after he had spoken, David realized that the wrong thing to do at this moment was to peak Trexel’s interest. </p><p>Trexel’s eyebrows rose above his star shaped sunglasses and he gave a crooked grin. “Ooooh,” he croned. “Big Clone Man has got Big Clone Problems. Standards finally decide to melt you down after all, eh?” </p><p>“Listen, Trexel,” David said, his eyes glued to the floor display which showed that the lift was almost to the main lobby.”I really don’t have the time for this right now. I-I have to meet someone.” The lift was slowing to a halt.</p><p>“Who could possibly be so important that you don’t have a moment to talk to your old pal, Trexel Geistman?” Trexel demanded, flopping over and slinging an arm around David’s shoulders. David suspected that it had more to do with Trexel needing support to remain upright as the lift stopped than any sort of companionable gesture. </p><p>“Stellar Firma main lobby,” IMOGEN announced and then, after a second of thought, quickly added “Good luck with that.”</p><p>“If you must know,” David said, attempting to wriggle out from under Trexel’s arm and cloying stench of alcohol. “It’s, well,” the lift doors slid open and the roar of hundreds of chattering voices filled the air. “It’s Bathin,” David sighed, certain that Trexel wouldn’t be able to overhear him over the din.</p><p>“BATHIN?” Trexel shrieked, suddenly sober as the day he had been born. </p><p>Apparently, David had been wrong. </p><p>“BATHIN GALACTONIUM IS HERE?”</p><p>Trexel’s indignant shriek echoed through the suddenly silent dome of the Stellar Firma main lobby as hundreds of heads turned in unison to see the man and clone, spot lit under the single yellow lamp in the lift.</p><p>Was this one hundred percent stress? Surely this was one hundred percent stress. But he wasn’t melting yet which meant that, apparently, things could get even more stressful than this. Oh, dear. </p><p>“Upon my word,” the voice boomed, deep and rich and with a clipped, upper class accent. “Is that Trexel Geistman?” </p><p>Trexel shoved away from David 7 and took a step forward, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Bathin,” he hissed. </p><p>IMOGEN beeped, just faint enough that only David heard her. “Do NOT embarrass me this way,” she warned, unheeded. </p><p>Laughter boomed from the front of the hall and then, as though two ropes had been threaded between the lift and the dias at the front and then pulled apart, the crowd parted down the middle to leave a clear aisle between the crew of the Turpsachorde Vont and the two hapless idiots still standing in the lift. </p><p>“Why, Geistman, that is you, isn’t it?” the voice boomed and a man stepped forward. “Why, I haven’t seen you since university! Come here, you old scallywag!” The man began to walk down the aisle with arms outstretched as though he was ready to sweep the whole world into his warm and inviting embrace. </p><p>David’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment the world fell away from around him. There were no Standards standing on the far dias, scowling at him in matched expressions of disapproval. No hundreds of onlookers waiting to see how quickly and thoroughly this entire tableau could be ruined. Not even Trexel, standing just before him and vibrating with rage and indignation. There was just Bathin, striding towards him with long and graceful steps.</p><p>David 7 had seen the Great Duke before. He had looked the renowned adventurer up in IMOGEN’s database many times and kept a tiny printout of his visage pasted on the wall of his pod near where he rested his head to go to sleep each night. But now he was seeing the man for real and he was breathtaking. It should have been impossible to look good under the harsh, halogen lights that Stellar Firma lit every corridor with, but somehow, Bathin’s deep sea green skin was glowing. The azure blue of his curling locks glinted and shown with each step. His eyes were warm and sparkling, his full lips turned up in a smile so charming that David almost missed what Bathin was wearing. </p><p>Then his eyes dropped lower and he felt what it surely must feel like to be dropped out of an air lock. Black trousers, soft and velveteen looking, and absolutely tailored to hug every curve and muscle. His top was a pale blue with a deep and sweeping neckline, open down the center with interwoven laces crossing over his bare torso. The sleeves were made of some sheer fabric of the same shade, and the cuffs were wide enough to billow back to his elbows, exposing thick forearms and well manicured nails. </p><p>Suddenly, reality crashed back down around David 7. This wasn’t a fantasy where Bathin had finally appeared to sweep him off of his feet and take him far, far away from Stellar firma. This was the real world where Trexel was watching his self proclaimed arch-enemy descend upon him for a hug and hundreds of eyes were glued to the scene, waiting for the bloody fall out. Bathin hadn’t even noticed David standing behind Trexel.</p><p>‘This is my chance,’ David thought to himself, his heart jack-hammering in his chest. ‘I’ll just close the lift doors and go back to the bottom of the station. If I start making my way through the vents now, I’ll never have to see another living person again.’</p><p>David 7 pressed the button to close the lift doors. Nothing happened. He pushed it again.</p><p>“I don’t think so,” IMOGEN beeped softly in his ear.</p><p>David 7 pushed the button frantically.</p><p>“Watch it, Buster,” IMOGEN intoned. </p><p>And at that moment, Bathin reached Trexel and wrapped his arms around him, lifting the indignant drunk off of his feet and spinning him around in a circle. “It’s been years, old friend!” Bathin laughed, completely drowning out Trexel’s outraged cries of “Unhand me at once or I swear I will put your head in a chemical toilet!” </p><p>“Oh, Geistman, you old sod!” Bathin laughed, completely failing to read the room as he planted Trexel back on his feet and tousled his hair. “We really must have brunch sometime. Catch up on old times. But I’m afraid I’m here on official business. Now.” Bathin spun around, finally spotting David cowering in the lift, still desperately pushing the button to close the doors. “Ah! Lift attendant! Would you be so good as to take me to see the clone called David 7, post haste?”</p><p>“Oh, um, actually,” David 7 squeaked. One-hundred and ten. This was one-hundred and ten percent. Possibly one-hundred and twenty. “That is, well, um-...”</p><p>“I’m sorry, my good man, you’ll have to speak up.” Bathin gave that rich and charming laugh that would have turned David’s knees to jelly if they weren’t already locked in rigor mortis terror. </p><p>“I mean, well, that is, I’m not, or, no, I am, I mean, but-...” David continued to stammar.</p><p>Bathin gentled his smile and leaned in. He was used to meeting a star struck fan every now and again and was well practiced at putting one at their ease. “Now, now,” he said in a much softer, intimate tone. “No need to be so nervous. Why don’t you take a breath and say that one more time for me?”</p><p>“I-... I-... I-...”</p><p>“That IS David 7,” the Standard’s voice echoed from the front of the hall. David managed to break his gaze from Bathin’s face long enough to see Number One standing next to their partner, arms folded and managing to look bored, annoyed, and unimpressed all at the same time. David’s gaze then flicked back to Bathin’s face and saw his rich, dark eyes widening with shock.</p><p>“Umm,” David gave a shy little wave. “Hello.” </p><p>“David 7,” Bathin said, breathless as though realizing some great truth. “As I live and breathe.”</p><p>“He-hello, your grace, I’m, uh, I’m David 7.”</p><p>“Wonders never cease,” Bathin breathed. </p><p>“I, uh, I actually designed a planet for you once,” David continued to ramble. “It, uh, it wasn’t a very good one. There were dogs. Um. In chutes.”</p><p>It was probably for the best that Bathin had lost himself in his own narrative and had failed to process a word that David had said. “David 7! The man, no! The CLONE who saved Stellar Firma! I am absolutely pleased, no chuffed to meet you!” And with that, Bathin seized one of David’s hands in both of his own and shook it heartilly. </p><p>For a moment, David was lost again. Bathin’s hands were large, warm and dry. They fit so neatly around his own hand. He imagined how well one would fit against the small of his back and pull him tight against Bathin’s expansive chest; how neatly his head could tuck just under Bathin’s chin. His nose would rest against the hollow of Bathin’s throat and Bathin could rest his nose on top of David’s head, breathing him in, stroking his back, holding him close and safe…</p><p>And then there was a beep. One, soft beep. The equivalent of IMOGEN clearing her throat, David supposed, and he realized that he was staring dreamily up at Bathin and rather failing to let go of the man’s hand. </p><p>“I, uh.” David quickly released Bathin’s hand and clasped his own hands behind his back, as though putting them in time out for misbehaving. “It’s very nice to meet you, too, your grace.” </p><p>Bathin’s smile broadened once again. “Bathin to my friends, please.” </p><p>David swallowed. He knew he was blushing, and along the edges of his vision he was becoming aware of rapid flashes. Cameras were going off at an alarming speed as reporters hastened to capture the moment that Bathin Galactonium shook the hand of a clone. </p><p>“Could we um, maybe, could we go somewhere a bit more private?” David 7 asked. “If it’s alright with you?”</p><p>“Of course, of course,” Bathin said, warmly clasping David on the shoulder. For a moment, David felt himself begin to relax. Then Bathin wheeled him around to face the crowd and began to propel him forward towards the Dias. “Right after we greet the press! The world needs to know about how David 7 saved Stellar Firma!” </p><p>David was no longer trying to quantify his stress level. His world was chaos and numbers held no power to help him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Motion Sickness and Goose Liver</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>David learns about stars, motions sickness, and pâté.</p><p>Content warning for in character alcoholism.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The past half hour existed as something of a blur in David 7’s mind. He knew that it was a span of time that had happened, and that he had, in theory, experienced it from his own body, but nailing down exactly what had happened and how he had been involved was a task that was beyond his comprehension. </p><p>Bathin had swiftly piloted him to the front of the lobby where David’s hands had been seized by two others who had hauled him up on to the dias. One of the beings had been some sort of insectoid with long, shapely antennae and a thoroughly upsetting number of legs that David could never quite seem to count. The other had been something like an enormous snake, covered in rugged scars and tattoos. They spun David around to face the assembled masses and then Bathin had been back at his side, smiling brilliantly and answering questions.</p><p>This, at least, came as a relief for David, as he was still uncertain as to what it was he had done to save Stellar Firma. It appeared that Bathin had at least done his homework in that area, and the answers he gave were rather enlightening to both the media and David 7.</p><p>Then at some point, in the midst of all the clamor, the flashes, the questions, the different hands, claws, and paws being placed upon his back as toothy grins next to him mugged for photos, Bathin had gently placed his hand on David’s shoulder and guided him away from the dias. </p><p>They had ended up in one of the consultation rooms. David wasn’t sure how. Theoretically, he was the one who should be showing Bathin around the station but he was pretty sure that Bathin was the one who had led the way. And now Bathin was sitting across from him, staring skeptically at the bubbling, amber liquid he had been served in a fluted glass. The insectoid and the reptile who had been on the dias with Bathin were seated on the other side of the room talking to the Standards who, despite engaging in conversation with the other aliens, never once took their eyes off of David 7. David himself was anxiously turning a paper cup of slurry back and forth between his palms. He was allowed the Line Manager slurry now. For that matter, he was even allowed to partake of the General Manager slurry if he so chose, but David didn’t want anyone to think he was getting airs about him so he stuck to the Line Manager variety. </p><p>“Are you sure I can’t get you a cocktail, David?” Bathin asked at last, glancing back to the paper cup in David’s hands. “That smells rather… well, strong.”</p><p>“Oh, no,” David said, flashing a weak smile up at Bathin. “It’s fine. I like it.” </p><p>“If you say so.” Bathin took a quick swig from his glass and almost managed to keep the grimace from his face. He politely sat the glass on the little table to his side before swinging one long leg over the other and fixing his gaze on David 7. “So,” Bathin said, resting his chin atop the back of his hand and giving a charming smile, “David, tell me all about yourself.”</p><p>“Wha--about me?” David stammered. “What do you-... there’s not really-... Wouldn’t you, uh…” David tried to manage a charming smile of his own and managed something just outside of a rictus grin, “Wouldn’t you rather talk about you?”</p><p>Bathin laughed. “Not at all! I already know all about me--read about myself all the time in the news after all!”</p><p>David laughed a moment too late, realizing that Bathin had meant that as a joke. </p><p>Bathin continued smoothly. “What was it like when you were born? How were your early days? Where did you find the courage to delve down into the very bowels of this station?”</p><p>“Oh, I, uh, well…” David tried crossing his legs, uncrossed them, and then tried crossing them the other way. “Well, there was, uh, there was a lot of goo when I was born. But I suppose that that isn’t too unnatural is it? And my early days, well…” David’s face went blank for a moment as a memory floated to the surface of his mind. He had been sitting in a cold and dark room for seven hours until suddenly a man appeared in the doorway, a man who demanded to know who he was, if he was a clone, and why he hadn’t yet filled out the brief. A man who stank of alcohol and had no concept of volume control. “My early days were mostly dark with occasional bursts of loud,” David said at last. “And as for the last one, well… mostly just falling through tubes, I suppose.” </p><p>“Fascinating.” Bathin leaned forward. “And what about your education?”</p><p>“My education?” David began twisting the cup between his hands again. “I mean, I don’t really… umm… I look things up on IMOGEN a lot. Oh, and Trexel tells me things sometimes! And, well… I suppose that some of them must be true.”</p><p>“So you’ve had no formal education?” Bathin said, arching his brows.</p><p>“No, I…” David tried another smile. “I had a general program package installed when I was born.” </p><p>“Installed,” Bathin repeated with wonder. He shook his head. “And what about training? Socialization? Culture? Art?” </p><p>“Well, umm, my line manager made me a puppet once,” David said, perking up a bit. “And then Trexel brought a friend with him to work one day. And, and I suppose… IMOGEN is rather like my mum.” </p><p>There was a beep from the back of the room. “Watch it, buster.”</p><p>“And that was all done here in Stellar Firma?”</p><p>“Oh, yes.” </p><p>“Did they never take you off station to show you the planets they were building? Or introduce you to some of the cultures you’d be working with?” </p><p>“Oh, no,” David gave a short laugh. “I wasn’t even allowed to leave my room until a couple of months ago.” </p><p>“Are you telling me that you’ve never even left this station?” Bathen demanded, springing to his feet. </p><p>David shrank back into his chair with surprise. “Er, no?”</p><p>Bathin spun around, legs spread in a power stance, back arched gracefully and pointed to his two comrades. “Spinglewald! Countess_! Cancel your evening plans at once! We are taking David off of this station and out to dinner!” </p><p>Bathin’s friends looked as though they had been expecting this to happen for quite a while. The Standards did not look happy. David 7 looked terrified. </p><p>“O-o-off the station?” he stammered. “No, I don’t think I can do that!”</p><p>“Of course you can!” Bathin beamed. “You’re a free clone, David, you can do whatever you want.” </p><p>“I-I-I don’t think I’m actually a-...” David glanced anxiously back at the standards. Number One very slowly shook their head. David gulped. Was that supposed to mean don’t leave the station, or don’t upset Bathin?</p><p>“We’ll take you to Galactonium!” Bathin continued, sliding a slim tablet out from a pocket on his trousers. David didn’t understand how a tablet had been hidden in what essentially looked like a coat of matte black paint on Bathin’s skin. “Take you out to dinner at my favorite restaurant. Real food! Real drink! Real culture! Oh, David, all this time you’ve been but a tiny bud in the garden of life, but I’m about to force you to blossom!”</p><p>Another beep. “Watch it, buster.” </p><p>“Spinglewald!” the insectiod’s eyestalks swiveled around to look at Bathin. “Call James and have him make a reservation at Avante Chat for four, and then prep the stretch locomotor to meet us at the space port!’ </p><p>A single eyestalk waved up and down in response. David had no idea if that meant agreement, irritation, or was some form of rude gesture. </p><p>Number 48 finally stood, striding over to Bathin. “Your grace,” they said, “with all due respect-...”</p><p>“Don’t worry! I’ll have him back home and tucked in bed by midnight," Bathin boomed, clapping Number 48 on the shoulder hard enough to knock their sunglasses askew. David froze in shock. If there was a single moment since the Great Duke entered the station where his life had truly been in peril, this was it. </p><p>Number 48 remained frozen to the spot, their brain struggling to comprehend the absolute impossibility of the fact that THEY had just been told NO, and furthermore, had been CLAPPED on the SHOULDER. </p><p>At last, clearing their throat loudly, Number One stepped forward. They placed a hand on Number 48’s shoulder and gently pulled them back, setting their glasses back on straight. “See that you do,” Number One said simply. Their hand remained on Number 48’s shoulder, subtly restraining them. </p><p>“Excellent!” Bathin beamed. “David, come along!” </p><p>That large, warm hand was back between David’s shoulder blades, cutting short any chances he had left to protest. </p><p>***</p><p>The Turpsachorde Vont was absurdly large and decadently furnished. Though to be fair, David 7 thought, he didn't actually know whether or not all ships looked like this. The size of the bridge alone was three times the size of the office David had been born in. A short ramp led directly into the cockpit which, rather than the utilitarian rows of stiff backed chairs and numbered panels that David was expecting, hosted a spread of plush looking cushions and couches. The control panel at the front of the cockpit glowed and slowly alternated through an array of cool-colored lights.  A small, glittering crystal chandelier hung from the center of the roof and swung alarmingly as the ship took off. </p><p>“Best buckle in, mate,” Spindlewald said to David 7 as they scuttled past him and on to a low couch. “Bathin likes to fly fast.” </p><p>“How fast is fast?” David asked. Then, David 7, who had never in his life experienced a speed faster than the speed at which one could slide down a gently lubricated transport tube, discovered that not only were there speeds that could knock you off your feet, they could also slam your body against a wall before your shoes had a chance to catch up.</p><p>Chuckling, the Countess_  hauled David to his feet and dropped him on to a plush divan at the back of the cockpit. She drew a buckle out from within the folds of the cushions and clipped him neatly in. “You’ll get your space legs eventually,” she said, giving David a condescending little pat on the head before slithering up to take a seat next to Bathin. </p><p>The ship rocked and shook so hard that David was certain that the ship itself would fall apart, or at the very least all of his teeth would be rattled from his skull. </p><p>“B-a-a-a-a-a-th-i-i-i-n,” he attempted to yell over the roar of the engines, his fingers digging into the cushion beneath him. “I-i-i-s thi-i-i-s no-o-o-rma-a-al?”</p><p>And then, just as suddenly as all the noise and motion had started, it stopped. The roar of the engines died to a gentle human and the feeling of crushing pressure gave way to a dreamy weightlessness. “And we’re clear,” Bathin announced, giving a theatrical flourish of his hand. “We’ll have coordinates for a jump in just a moment, but first… David, look.” Bathin pressed a button on the control panel before him and the metal paneling of the ceiling began to fold aside, revealing a thick, transparent dome above them. “Have you ever seen the stars before?”</p><p>David blinked and squinted up at the sky above him. “It’s…” he said slowly. “It’s mostly just black.” </p><p>“It’s almost entirely black,” Bathin laughed. He unbuckled his own restraint and stood, gesturing for the Countess_ to move in to the pilot’s chair in his place. He walked to the back of the cockpit and sat down on the divan next to David, spreading one arm over the back of the couch behind him. He raised his other hand up, spreading his fingers and sweeping his arm wide to indicate all of space. “Billions and billions of lightyears of cold, inky nothing, but every now again… there, and there, and there.” Bathin pointed to one star and then another and then another. “Coincidental little pockets of helium and hydrogen, gathering together densely enough to make heat. To make light.”</p><p>“Yes,” David grumbled, feeling a tad belittled. “I know what a sun is. I used to make them.” </p><p>“And then,” Bathin continued, failing to read David’s tone, “some of those little baubles of heat manage to pull in enough gravity to attract more dust particles. Carbon. Oxygen. Silicon. Aluminum. Rocks form from nothing. Some of them grow burning hot, acidic, and completely without any atmosphere. Most of them remain balls of ice, too far away from any sun for light and warmth. But every once in a while, in a universe which is trying so hard to be absolutely nothing, one lands in just the right spot for a spark of life.” Bathin pointed to another speck of light, glowing slightly redder than the other specks around it. “That, David, that one is a planet. That is Uroburos 6. And that one,” Bathen’s arm swung around to the other side of the dome to a green speck, “That is Ng Division 12. And that…” Bathin pointed to one last spot of light, redder and slightly larger than all the rest. “That is Buerosa Greater. It’s a star that died 12 million years ago, David. Twelve million, and only now are we seeing the light from its extinction.”  Bathin looked back down at David. “Stellar Firma can make planets, sure, but planets were making themselves billions of years before life even thought of beginning.” </p><p>David frowned, squinting at the glow of Buerosa Greater. He was sure that there was supposed to be something meaningful in everything Bathin had just told him. He couldn’t help but feel that the Great Duke was waiting to see the light of understanding shine in his eyes. Instead, David gave his head a little shake. “And where is Stellar Firma?” David asked instead.</p><p>Bathin held his hand back up to the skylight, forming an L between his thumb and forefinger. He twisted his hand back and forth, apparently triangulating the distance between several stars before he pointed to the nearest edge of the domed window. “Stellar Firma is right there,” he announced.</p><p>David squinted into the dark area that Bathin indicated. “I don’t see anything,” he said at last. “It’s just… all dark.” </p><p>“Of course,” Bathin said. He folded one leg over the other and leaned back into the cushions. “Stellar Firma has no sun to reflect light from, and it creates no significant light of its own. It never has, and it never will.” </p><p>David 7 looked slowly back from Bathin to the black void outside of the dome. That made him feel something. Something cold and lonely that he didn’t know what to call and he didn’t want to know any more about. </p><p>***</p><p>The rest of the flight passed uneventfully. The metal shutters closed back over the dome of the ship shortly before Turpsachorde Vont made the jump into folded space and Bathin returned to the pilot’s chair, leaving David 7 to fidget awkwardly on the couch. The ship gave one quick lurch as it entered the space fold and then one more several minutes later when it exitted it. “Entering Galactonium’s atmosphere in ninety-six seconds,” Bathen called over his shoulder.</p><p>The Countess_'s scaly head spun back to face David. “Try holding on this time,” she said rather pointedly before moving to help Bathin with the landing procedures. </p><p>Soon the ship was rocking and shaking again. David pulled the strap around his middle as tightly as he could and curled his fingers around the bottom of the couch, attempting to weather the landing better than he had the take off. Even with warning, he was still quite green in the face by the time the ship landed with a heavy and final thump.</p><p>“Wecome to Galactonium,” Spinglewald began to recite, their voice perfectly mocking the rehearsed politeness of a sky steward. “The weather today is a balmy 26 degrees centigrade with 60% humidity.” The insectoid flipped several circuits above their head, causing the loading ramp in the back of the bridge to unseal and begin to descend. “Local gravity is 6 Gs, meaning those of you with sore joints should be feeling some relief today.” Spinglewald stood with The Countess_ and approached the back of the cockpit as Bathin finished turning off all remaining functions on the control panel. “ The local time is 17:57 and if you look to your right you will see…” Spinglewald glanced at David 7 and flicked their antennae back. “A very sick clone. We wish you a speedy departure before you see much more.” With that, Spinglewald was down the ramp with The Countess_ quick behind them.</p><p>“Oooh,” David 7 groaned, leaning forward and clutching his head. He wondered if the ship had made a water landing, for as far as he could tell everything was still rocking back and forth. A warm hand pressed against his forehead, gently easing him back up. David’s eyes flicked up and he saw Bathin, staring down at him with a worried frown. David closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. His gut was rolling, but the contact was… nice.</p><p>“Just a touch of space sickness,” Bathin said at last, pulling his hand back to help David with his safety restraint. “Everyone gets it their first few flights. It’ll pass in a jiffy.”</p><p>“Right,” David said and pushed himself to his feet.</p><p>The floor was a much safer option, he decided immediately, and fell back down. Bathin gave a short laugh before clasping David’s hand and pulling him to his feet. “You’ll get your bearings in no time. Come on, now, hold on to my arm. We don’t want to be late for dinner.” </p><p>David carefully wrapped his arm around Bathin’s, tucking his hand into the hollow of the larger man’s elbow. After a moment of hesitation, he leaned in to Bathin, allowing the man to take some of his weight as Bathin guided them down the ramp. David found himself wondering if this could possibly be real. He must have imagined a thousand scenarios just like this during the long lonely hours he had spent, trapped in his office. Well, something like this, anyway. He had never imagined himself being quite so nauseous while snuggling up to Bathin Galactonium; and the giant, talking insect was something of a surprise as well. </p><p>A wall of heat hit David as they descended the ramp, followed shortly by a wave of humidity. He gasped, suddenly feeling like the air was being stolen from his lungs. The Stellar Firma station had always been kept at a steady 20 degrees with low humidity. How could people possibly breathe this much damp in the air? Surely they must drown! Or perhaps the Galactoniums were aquatic in nature. David remembered Trexel once telling him that the Galactoniums were humans who had split away from Stellar Firma and founded their own planet hundreds of years ago. They had taken issue with Stellar Firma’s “citizen employees” model of governing and had left to found their own land a government; a point of contention between the two people that had never quite been put aside.</p><p>So it was a human planet at the very least. Humans and human-like life forms must be able to breathe the atmosphere. David took a few more cautious breaths. Each one came a little more easily than the last, and before he knew it he was able to move breathing on his list of concerns back below “don’t trip” and “don’t vomit on Bathin’s shoes”. </p><p>“Ah, and there is our ride,” Bathin announced, patting the hand that David rested against his elbow. David looked up. They stood on a wide, flat, concrete field. Dotted here and there along the expanse were other spaceships and vehicles, chromed exteriors glowing orange and red in the late afternoon light. A short distance away from them was a long, oblong sort of vehicle, hovering several inches above the ground. A young humanoid dressed in sharp black trousers and a neatly pressed violet shirt stood just outside the vehicle, holding a door towards the back open. He stood an inch or two taller than David, with dark, rounded eyes and black hair combed back off of his forehead. </p><p>As the party approached, the man gave a shallow bow. “Your grace,” he said before straightening. </p><p>“Ah, James,” Bathin said, stopping before the man to present David 7.</p><p>“James, this is David 7. He is the clone that saved Stellar Firma!”</p><p>“An honor,” James replied with another short bow.</p><p>“L-likewise,” David said uncomfortably.</p><p>“He’ll be joining us this evening. And David, this is James. My man’s man.” Bathin gave David a wink. David smiled up at Bathin. He didn’t get the joke. </p><p>“To the Avante Chat, James!” Bathin announced as Spindlewald and The Countess_ ducked in to the vehicle beside him. “I’ve not had a proper drink all day!” </p><p>“Right you are,” James replied, closing the door behind the last of the group and then walking to the front of the lengthy vehicle to the driver’s seat. The locomotor started up with a soft hum and gentle vibration.</p><p>“Now, uh, David…” Bathin said, looking to the clone who was just beginning to recover his natural color. “Have you ever ridden in a locomotor before?”</p><p>David blinked up at Bathin. “I have never left the station before today.”</p><p>“Right, then,” Bathin cleared his throat politely. “You might want to roll down the window and, well, stick your head out until we get to the restaurant.” </p><p>“Why?” David asked.</p><p>“It helps some people feel less motion sick,” Bathin replied. </p><p>“And if you do puke, it’ll be on the outside,” Spinglewald cackled. </p><p>***<br/>In the end, David managed to make it to the restaurant without losing any of the little slurry he had managed to eat that day, though he did need Bathin’s help walking for the first few steps outside of the motovehicle. As far as David was concerned, that was a side effect he could easily enjoy. </p><p>The Avante Chat ended up being an open air affair, with colored cloths draped high over the diners. The fabric appeared to be made of some bioluminescent material, and emitted different shades of warm color. Diners lounged on sofas and divans, picking daintily at the plates of food stuffs before them and drinking brightly colored liquids from glasses shaped like bubbles and flutes. There was a brief pause as the mostly human crowd spotted Spinglewald and The Countess_ being led to their table by a young maitre’d, but the confusion soon passed as Bathin was spotted behind them. A brief cheer went up for the duke before the diners swiftly returned to their own affairs. </p><p>Bathin deposited David 7 on the end of a low, azure divan before making himself comfortable next to the clone. Specialized seating had to be fetched to accommodate Spinglewald and The Countess_. While his two companions bickered about convenience and speciesism, Bathin selected a menu from the table and held it up for David to observe. </p><p>“Now, David,” said Bathin. “What would you like to drink? Wine? A cocktail? Perhaps an ale tonight?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, umm…” David tried to focus on the menu. While the letters were technically letters that he could read, the words were all foreign to him. “Sl-slurry?” </p><p>“Slurry?” Bathin gave that charming laugh again, the one that David felt he could happily hear for the rest of his life; even if he wasn’t sure whether or not it was being directed at him. “There’s no slurry here, David 7! Only the best food and drink for my friends! Here…” Bathin raised his hand and a waiter practically materialized at his side. “Let me order for you, now, he’ll have-...”</p><p>“Is this all alcohol?” David asked suddenly.</p><p>Bathin blinked at him in surprise. “Well… yes.” </p><p>“Then I’d rather just have water, if it’s alright.”</p><p>Bathin looked at the waiter. The waiter gave a small shrug. Bathin looked back to David 7. “It’s no trouble, David 7. I’d love to buy you a drink; and anything else you want to try this evening, for that matter.” </p><p>David dropped his gaze. Try as he might, he couldn’t banish the memory of waking up in the dark to the foul smell of gin being breathed onto his face as Trexel whispered “David, I’m going to shave you, David, I’m going to shave you,” into his ear. David didn’t have much of an understanding of what alcohol was or why, exactly, it made Trexel do the things he did. He only knew that his associations with it were strictly unpleasant. “Just water, please,” he said quietly. </p><p>Bathin looked back up at the waiter and shrugged before giving a quick nod. The waiter was gone as quickly as he had appeared. </p><p>“Well, I guess the rest of us aren’t ordering drinks either, then,” Spinglewald grumbled, several of their many legs drumming irately against the ground. </p><p>“Sorry,” David said, shrinking back into the cushions. Old habits were slowly coming back to him. When the world was big and scary, it was best to be small, out of the way, and unnoticed. </p><p>“Don’t mind them,” Bathin said, fixing a pointed glare on Spinglewald. He waited until the insectoid lowered its eyestalks to a level Bathin felt to be suitably chagrined before he continued brightly. “Dinner is what we’re here for, anyway!”</p><p>And then it was like David was back on the station, standing on the dias with the world happening independently of him. People were talking around him. Things were being placed before him and taken away. Bathin was offering him foodstuffs one spoonful at a time. Perhaps it could have been romantic if not for Spinglewald and The Countess_ watching and occasionally sniggering to each other. </p><p>There was bread, which was nice but strangely chewy. A soup which tasted strongly of salt and some savoury flavor that David had never experienced before. Hard cheeses which David found difficult to chew after his slurry only diet, and then grilled fruits and vegetables which turned to mush in his mouth. At last, a small plate of something soft and pink spread on crackers was placed on the table before the group. David watched as the others took the crackers and popped them into their mouths whole. He could tell from the crunching that the crackers would hurt his teeth so he opted instead to swipe a finger through the pink mush on top. The stuff looked and felt like clone slurry. Popping his finger into his mouth, he found that it even had a similar, strong flavor.</p><p>“Oh,” he said. “This is… this is quite good, actually.” </p><p>Bathin’s face lit up with a broad grin. “You like the pâté?” he asked. “Then by all means!” Bathin raised his hand into the air and turned to the waiter who materialized by his side. “Garçon, more pâté! Goose, horse, trout, feranous, mesomarian, bring it all!” </p><p>“You don’t have to-...” David began, but it was clear who the waiter took his orders from as the man had already begun to walk away. “Oh, oh, alright.”</p><p>“A man of refined tastes,” Bathin laughed. “I should have known just from looking at you.” </p><p>Spinglewald sniggered, but Bathin laid his arm across the back of the divan behind David and tipped him a wink. Spinglewald could mock him all they wanted, David decided, as long as Bathin stayed close and kept smiling at him like that. </p><p>Soon, several plates of crackers with paste in varying shades of pink and brown had been laid around the table. David had just begun to lay into the spread with a real appetite when a sharp beeping trill came from Bathin’s pocket, making David jump. With a sigh, Bathin pulled his tablet out of his trousers and gave the screen a quick once over. He groaned and rolled his eyes. “It’s Rakewell.” </p><p>“And what has your cousin done now?” The Countess_ asked, sipping slowly at a dark red wine. </p><p>“He claims he was searching for the lost treasure of Tasslethorpe and ran into an opposing gang of treasure hunters. He says he’s in their custody and needs a rescue as soon as possible.” </p><p>“He was in a bar,” Spinglewald said, raising one leg with each point, “he found the bottom of a bottle, he got in a fight, got arrested, and needs bail.” </p><p>“Doubtless,” Bathin sighed, standing up. “But family is family.” </p><p>“I’ll settle the tab,” The Countess_ sighed and stood, slithering away to find a waiter.</p><p>Bathin turned to David 7. “David, I am so sorry. I had hoped to take you to a play after dinner and then perhaps out for drinks after, but…” he glared at his phone as though it had personally conspired against him to ruin his evening. “I’m afraid I have urgent matters to attend to.” </p><p>“Oh, no, it’s…” David glanced to Spinglewald as the insectoid stood and began to brush crumbs off of their front. He looked back to Bathin and saw that the man was standing as well. “It’s alright, I mean, I didn’t… I never meant to… Umm… what should I do?” </p><p>“Oh, just wait here, David. I’ll call James and have him come pick you up and take you home. I’ll see that the waiter comes by to bring you something to drink while you wait.”</p><p>“I don’t need anything-, I mean, if you’re-, but-...” David stood up, suddenly feeling a burst of panic as Bathin began to walk away. He didn’t want to be left alone in this strange place on the first day of his life he had been outside of Stellar Firma. “Bathin, wait!”</p><p>Bathin stopped and turned around, looking at David with surprise. David flushed, realizing that half of the restaurant had stopped to stare at him as well. “S-sorry, it’s just,” David fidgeted and then cleared his throat. “Umm, thank you very much. For today. It was-… am I ever going to see you again?”</p><p>Bathin stepped forward and took one of David’s hands between both of his own. “David I am so sorry, that was unforgivably rude of me. Yes, of course, thank you for joining me today! It has been a pleasure to get to know you. I’ll take care of this little family drama and then I’ll see when we can get together again. Have a proper day out.” </p><p>David knew that every person in the restaurant was suddenly watching him and Bathin with acute interest. He didn’t care. He smiled softly up at Bathin. “I’d like that a lot.” </p><p>Bathin returned his smile and then released his hands, spinning around. “Spinglewald! You’ll have to drive. I’m lending James the Turpsachorde Vont to take David home.”</p><p>“Lucky James,” David heard Spinglewald mutter as he scuttled out of the restaurant after Bathin. </p><p>Without Bathin’s warm gaze to comfort him, the pressure of having every eye in the restaurant on him returned and David quickly sat back down. The waiter returned shortly after, efficiently stacking dishes on his arm as he spoke to David. “A glass of wine for zer?” </p><p>“Umm, no thank you.”</p><p>“A cocktail, perhaps?” </p><p>“Um, no thank you.” </p><p>“Would zer like a glass of scotch?”</p><p>“Is that alcohol?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“No thank you.” </p><p>The waiter paused, scowling. His inability to sell David 7 on a drink was beginning to make him feel a bit inadequate at his job. “Coffee?”</p><p>David gave the waiter a resigned look. “Is that alcohol?”</p><p>“No.” </p><p>“Then… alright.” </p><p>Slowly, the rest of the diners lost interest in David 7 and returned to their own conversations. David sampled the cup of dark brown liquid that the waiter laid in front of him and set it aside. It was a bit too bitter for his pallet, but he found that the tiny pitcher of cream that had been served with it was actually quite cool and pleasant on his tongue. Furthermore, the waiter seemed to enjoy serving it to him. Every time David asked him for more the waiter began to grin. </p><p>The red had faded from the sky and the pin prick light of stars now shown through a blanket of deep purple-blue. David leaned back on the divan and gazed up, trying to puzzle out the wisdom behind planets that made themselves. He supposed it was impressive that planets had been making themselves without help from Stellar Firma for billions of years, but from what Bathin had been saying most of them had done a very poor job of it. Maybe one planet out of every million was stable enough for living creatures. Perhaps he and Trexel had designed some very poor planets in the beginning, but compared to the universe their track record was sterling. </p><p>“Mx. David 7?”</p><p>David jumped and sat up quickly. James was standing on the opposite side of the table as him, looking reluctant to pull him out of his musing. His pressed slacks and creased shirt had been swapped for loose trousers and a pale, long sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. David got the impression that James had been in the middle of doing something else when Bathin had called him to hurry back and pick David up. </p><p>“The locomotor is here, if you’re ready to go.” </p><p>“Oh, yes, please,” David sat up and then fell back with a groan as his stomach gave a lurch. James reached smoothly down and helped him to his feet. “S-sorry. My stomach. I guess… I guess I never quite recovered from the flight here.” David gave James a sheepish smile.</p><p>James returned his grin easily. “It’s no trouble, zer. Lean on me if you need support.”</p><p>“I’m fine, now,” David replied, doing his best not to prove himself a liar. It was a bit easier now without Spinglewald snickering behind him, and The Countess_ occasionally giving an impatient sigh. </p><p>James lead David to the locomoter and once again helped him in to the back seat. The vehicle had seemed large before but without anyone to share the back with him, David felt like a small child trapped in a long hall. Or at least, based on pictures of children he had seen, he assumed that this was what it felt like to be a small child trapped in a long hall. David wasn’t given long to grow uncomfortable, however, for as soon as the vehicle started moving his stomach started roiling again. David groaned and hunched over, wrapping his arms around his gut.</p><p>“Are you alright, zer?” James asked, glancing briefly over his shoulder.</p><p>“Sorry, sorry,” David said. “Just my stomach, I…” David gagged and clapped his hands over his mouth, embarrassed.</p><p>“Hold on.” The motovehicle pulled over to the side of the road and slowed to a stop. James stepped out of the driver’s seat and came around to the back. He opened the door and poked his head inside, looking at David with concern. “Would you like to come up to the front, zer? Some folks tend to get motion sick in the back.” </p><p>“Yeah, that… that would be nice.” David stumbled out of the motovehicle, still clutching his stomach and allowed James to take his arm and lead him to the passenger door. He helped David slide into the seat before returning to his own chair on the other side.</p><p>“Here,” James said, reaching across David and pressing a button on the side of his chair. David gave a small, startled squeak as his seat reclined backwards.</p><p>“Th-thank you,” he said. He turned on to his side and pulled his knees up to his chest. “I think that maybe I just ate too much tonight.”</p><p>“Hmm…” James pulled the motovehicle back onto the road and then reached over, adjusting the air vents on David’s side so that they were blowing blessedly cool air on to his face. “Neo-French cuisine can be a bit heavy for my tastes,” he replied. “I have some bottled water behind the pilot’s chair if you would like one.”</p><p>“Th-thank you,” David said. “I’m just going to… I’m just going to try holding very still for a while.”</p><p>“A wise idea.” James drove in silence for a while, occasionally shooting a concerned glance over at David as the clone groaned and tightened his arms around his stomach. “Have you ever eaten food like you had tonight before?” he asked.</p><p>David shook his head. Despite the cool air, his face was flushed and sweating. “No, I’ve always just eaten slurry until now,” he muttered.</p><p>“Slurry?”</p><p>“Just… just…” David pressed his face into the cushions of his seat for a moment, gathering his resolve before trying again. “Ground up nutrients in a paste. Sometimes it was hot.”</p><p>“Oh,” James sighed. “Oh, I see. Your poor stomach. Everything tonight must have been a bit too rich for you. I’m sorry, David.” </p><p>“Oh, please don’t be sorry!” David said, his need not to annoy Bathin’s friends briefly overcoming his nausea. “It was all really lovely, actually. I actually… uh… I think it was the pâté? It was a lot like slurry. I liked it a lot.” </p><p>“The pâté?” James chuckled, his cheeks dimpling as he smiled. “I guess it would be, wouldn’t it?” He glanced at David as the clone once again groaned and doubled up. “Oh, dear.” James craned one arm around behind his seat and began to pat the back, feeling for the little latch which would open the compartment and give him access to chilled champagne and bottled water. “Well, at least,” he said, reaching over and pressing a cold water bottle to David’s forehead. David sighed gratefully. “If you don’t manage to keep your dinner down, the pâté will come out the same color and texture that it went in.” </p><p>It was the wrong joke to make at that moment.</p><p>It did come out the same color and texture that it went in. </p><p>***</p><p>James helped David 7 to lay down on one of the couches in the Turpsachorde Vont, working the safety buckle neatly around his prone form in such a way that David suspected that James had transported an unconscious body more than once. He then tucked a plastic bucket under the couch within easy reach before piloting the clone home. </p><p>David alternated between puking and dozing during the flight through folded space. His stomach was beginning to settle and he felt a bit more like himself by the time the Turpsachorde Vont docked at Stellar Firma. He thanked James for flying him all the way back home and then apologized again for puking in the motovehicle… and then several more times in the space ship. James smiled and waved away David’s apology. “Overtime is overtime,” he replied.</p><p>David, whose working experience consisted of collaborating with a man who only showed up to the final twenty minutes of each shift, had no idea what overtime was. So he nodded, thanked James again, and made his way back on to the station. </p><p>Between the excitement, spending the majority of his day wildly motion sick, and the vomiting, David 7 was exhausted. He crossed straight to the lift from the main entrance, wanting only to crawl into his cot and sleep until the world stopped spinning. The lift doors opened. Number One and Number 48 were waiting for him.</p><p>“David 7,” said Number One as their partner reached out and pulled David into the lift before he had a chance to run away. “So good to see you back safe and sound. And so much earlier than we expected!”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, yes,” David stammered, shrinking back against the far wall of the lift as Number One and Number 48 took up positions on either side of him. “There was an emergency and Bathin had to, um, had to leave.” </p><p>“How unfortunate.” Number One pressed a button to start the lift’s descent. David couldn’t help but feel that the lift was moving much more slowly than normal. “I’m very sorry to hear that.”</p><p>“What did you and Bathin talk about?” Number 48 asked, crowding in closer to David.</p><p>“O-oh, you know, this and that.” David tried a laugh that sounded pathetic even to his own ears. “I guess... I guess we talked a lot about food?” </p><p>“Did you tell him anything about Stellar Firma?” Number One interjected.</p><p>“What? No, I don’t think so.”</p><p>“Any secrets?” Number 48 demanded.</p><p>“What secrets?” David squeaked.</p><p>“What does he know about IMOGEN and clone processing?” </p><p>“We didn’t talk about IMOGEN!” David declared. “We just went to dinner, and then he left, and then I got really sick!” The lift had stopped and the doors had opened, but the Standards were blocking David in. “I couldn’t even think straight! I-... I threw up a few times!” </p><p>The Standards scowled at David, immaculate eyebrows raising above their sunglasses in unison. In a list ditch effort for survival, David dry heaved.</p><p>It did the trick.</p><p>Number One and Number 48 stepped quickly away from the clone before glancing at each other and then sheepishly away. “If you see Bathin again,” Number 48 said, “remember that OUR secrets are OUR secrets.”</p><p>“I don’t even know what OUR secrets are,” David 7 muttered. </p><p>“Go to bed, David 7,” Number One said, stepping away from the door and nodding her head out. David didn’t need to be told twice. He scampered out of the lift and hurried down the hall to his office. He didn’t stop rushing until he was inside with the door shut securely behind him.</p><p>David breathed out a sigh of relief. Peace and quiet at last. He toed his shoes off and made his way to his cot in the dark. He wasn’t even going to bother with changing into his sleep onesie tonight. He just wanted to get his head down and turn his spinning brain off for a few hours, and it couldn’t happen too soon. He dropped on to his cot.</p><p>He landed on something angular and yielding that screamed.</p><p>“IMONGEN, LIGHTS!” David yelped, springing back to his feet. Blue light immediately filled the small room, revealing Trexel sitting up in his bed. He blinked owlishly up at David.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” each person screamed at the other.</p><p>“Trexel, this is MY bed!” David yelled. “Go to your own room!” </p><p>“I was here first!” Trexel declared, tugging the sheet up to his chin.</p><p>“It doesn’t matter! This is MY room! Go to your own!” David yelled again. </p><p>“Shan’t,” Trexel replied before flopping back down onto the cot and pulling the thin blanket up over his head.</p><p>“Oh, for…” David sighed and stepped forward. He grabbed the edge of the cot and tipped Trexel out before snatching the blanket out of his hands. Trexel gave a weak protest but didn’t fight back. Despite his appearance, David 7 was a lot stronger than him. This was a lesson Trexel had learned and relearned the hard way, many times. Grumbling sulkily, Trexel scooted under the cot and curled up. “IMOGEN, lights, please,” David said and the office was once again returned to soothing darkness. For just a moment, David dared to hope that he would be allowed to go to sleep. </p><p>“So,” Trexel said tersely, “How was your date with Bathin?” </p><p>“It wasn’t a date, Trexel,” David sighed. “And it was… fine.” </p><p>“Just fine?” </p><p>“It was lovely. We went to dinner and I had a wonderful time.”</p><p>“I bet you did,” Trexel grumbled. “Out with good old Silver Spoon Bathin. Just coasting through life on champagne and caviar. Never had to do a hard day’s work in his life.” </p><p>“Trexel, I’ve never seen you work a full shift. I’ve never seen you work more than thirty minutes of a shift!”</p><p>“I said hard day, not long day.” </p><p>“Trexel,” David sighed, rolling over and peering over the edge of his cot at the man. “Why aren’t you in your own room?” </p><p>Trexel was silent for so long that David began to think he wasn’t going to answer him. ‘As long as he’s quiet,’ David thought, lying back down and pulling the blanket up under his chin.</p><p>“I got lonely,” Trexel said at last, so quiet that David almost didn’t hear him. </p><p>David opened his eyes again and sighed. “Alright, fine. You can sleep in here, just… be quiet. I’ve had a very long day.”</p><p>“Yeah, I’ll bet you have,” Trexel grumbled.</p><p>“Trexel.” </p><p>“Right.” Trexel heaved the sigh of a man who had been horribly misused. David elected to ignore him. After several moments of silence, Trexel spoke quietly. “David?”</p><p>David sighed. “What, Trexel?”</p><p>“I’m starting to get cold, David.” </p><p>David opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Would it be an overreaction to ask IMOGEN to open the gun walls on Trexel? Probably. And the clean up would mean that David would have to wait even longer to go to sleep. “Fine, fine, fine!” David declared. He sat up and threw his pillow on the floor before laying down next to Trexel. He tossed half the blanket over before sternly warning him “If I wake up and you’re cuddling me, Trexel, I will flush all the booze in your mini bar out the airlock.” </p><p>“You don’t need to be so grouchy,” Trexel muttered as he tugged the blanket over his form. “You’d think you’d be in a better mood from your ‘lovely evening’.”</p><p>“Good night, Trexel.” </p><p>“Should be practically charitable.” </p><p>“Good NIGHT, Trexel.”</p><p>“... what did you have?”</p><p>“.... What?” </p><p>“To eat. What did you have to eat tonight?”</p><p>“I don’t know. Lots of things. Pâté.”</p><p>“Aaaah, goose liver. Haven’t had that myself in years.” </p><p>“... goose liver?”</p><p>“Yes, pâté, goose liver. Well, not JUST goose liver, I suppose. Could be any kind of liver. You take an animal, you make it nice and lazy and fat, then you pull out its liver, grind it up, serve it on a cracker, and voilà. Pâté.”</p><p>David stared blankly in the darkness for a moment. “Oh, Board,” he whispered.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much to everyone who left me a lovely, kind comment on the first chapter! I swear my plan had been to write a few chapters of story, all of about the same length, but the next thing I knew, chapter 2 had become over twice as long as chapter one. I hope you all still enjoy reading it! I'm currently planning on about three more chapters to finish off the story. Maybe four.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Bathin's Moving Castle [art]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well, guys, I started a new job. Early morning training requires I do some doodling to avoid falling asleep. Sorry I haven't had a chance to work on the next chapter just yet, but in the mean time here is some Howl's Moving Castle inspired fan art of Bathin showing David the galaxy.</p><p>Side note, I just want to say that you guys are absolutely the sweetest. You've been leaving me the kindest, most inspiring comments ever and I'm so thankful to you all. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The blue pill and the pink pill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>David talks to Trexel about suns and then to James about soup</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>David 7 awoke to sweaty body heat and the breath of a man who had been drunk for so long that he had earned his own personal hazard warning for ethanol emissions within the station. David kicked out with both legs while shrieking “I told you not to cuddle me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not a fish!” Trexel shrieked back, scrambling away and clutching the blanket to his chest as though concerned for his modesty. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Board,” David groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “And I was having such a nice dream until I realized Bathin would never smell that bad!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Imagine how I must feel!” Trexel declared, securing the rest of the blanket over to his side. “I was expecting a fish!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David peered at Trexel over the tops of his fingers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yikes,” commented IMOGEN.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Right,” David sighed, standing up. “Well, I’m leaving. Feel free to go back to your own room at any point, Trexel.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trexel grumbled. He scooted David’s now abandoned pillow over to him and flopped down, shrugging the blankets up over his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“IMOGEN,” said David, “If he’s not up in an hour, start playing Galactonium’s National Anthem on loop.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You do not give me orders,” IMOGEN replied. “However, I may choose to follow your suggestion out of personal interest.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David left his office and shuffled down the hall to the Build Floor’s washroom. Having access to the showers was a luxury he had soon come to love. Although being slimy did come with its own perks, David had quickly learned that being clean and dry was a much more comfortable state to be in. Once he felt clean and fresh enough to face a new day, and once he had securely locked the moisturizer back into his own private cupboard where Trexel couldn’t reach it, David returned to the build floor to pass the day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trexel was still in David’s office when he returned, snuggled under his cot and snoring loudly. David rolled his eyes and went to his desk to pull up a brief to look over. Technically, he didn’t need to be working on briefs right now. For that matter, David suspected that he wasn’t supposed to be, but… David liked making things. And he liked making things that other people liked. He didn’t have the heart to try another cafe since his last had burned down, but he supposed that he could still try his hand at designing a planet here and there. The citizen employees of Stellar Firma were still in a bit of a mess ever since David had “saved them”, and no one relly knew what they were meant to be doing. Commissions for custom planets were still coming in but no one was being assigned to work on them. Nobody would notice if David slipped out a few of the more interesting requests and worked on them in his own time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David managed ten minutes of peaceful work before Trexel groaned and rolled over. “David… David, you’re typing too loud. Type quieter.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go to your own room, Trexel,” David sighed. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What a horrible thing to say to a friend with a headache,” Trexel moaned. “You can really be quite a terrible friend sometimes.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I-!” David started, glaring up at Trexel. He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Not worth it, David, just ignore him,” he muttered to himself. He turned back to his screen and resumed typing, perhaps just a bit more gently than before. A wealthy argonian family was requesting a vacation spa planet, close to the sun for prime basking territory. The trick, David had found, with wet planets near the sun was to balance the water out so that the rotation didn’t become tidally locked; leaving one side to freeze while the other side baked. After a moment, David frowned and looked up. “Hey, Trexel,” he said. Trexel grunted. “Why didn’t The Board build Stellar Firma near a sun?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trexel’s eyes peaked over the top of the blanket to glare at David. “Are you questioning The Board?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” David declared quickly, glancing anxiously at the walls. “Of course not! I’m just… questioning the station?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trexel glared at David for a moment longer before rolling over. “Well, you can’t be orbiting a star and build another planet in that same orbit without throwing off gravity, can you? You’d either throw yourself right out of orbit or you’d pull every passing moon and comet down on yourself. You’ve got to build the planet well out of range from anything with a gravity well and then drop them off in to orbit after they’re done.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David sighed. “So Stellar Firma really will never see the light, will it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s gotten into you, David? Why do you have so many questions about stars and planets all of the sudden?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I asked one question,” David said dryly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s Bathin, of course. I can see his bad influence written all over you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Trexel, because my one evening with Bathin was so much more damaging than all the days I spent sitting alone in the dark because you never bothered to show me where the light switch was. Or tell me that I could stand up from my chair.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Caution,” IMOGEN cut in. “Clone sass levels rising. Don’t make me turn this meritocracy around.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Exactly. I gave you a dependable routine,” Trexel replied, ignoring David’s snort. “What will Bathin give you? Spontaneity and uncertainty? Dangerous treks into the unknown? A life of winsome adventure?  You’ve seen what that sort of thing can do. Can burn down a cafe. Can lose a man his fish. You’d best listen to your old pal Trexel Geistman and just stay here on the station where it’s safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” David said wistfully, his gaze drifting away from the screen. Trexel had lost David on “winsome adventure” and wouldn’t be getting him back any time soon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An envelope was slapped down on the table in front of David 7, causing him to drop the cup of slurry he had previously been enjoying. Brushing hot slop off of the front of his onesie, David glanced up into the sunglass guarded gaze of the Standards. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“David 7,” said Number 48 dryly. “Enjoying lunch?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I was,” David squeaked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It appears our mutual friend has sent you a letter, David 7,” Number One took over, shoving the envelope closer to David without actually removing their hand from it. “A letter, David 7. Made from real paper. Who writes letters these days?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I,” David 7 ventured, “Can I have it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, David 7, why don’t we read it?” Number 48 said, walking around to drop on to the bench next to David.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s!” agreed Number One, finally releasing the envelope and sitting down on David’s other side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“R-right,” David said, attempting to make himself as narrow as possible before picking up the envelope. Written on the front in elegant slanting script were the words “To David 7; by care of the help at Stellar Firma.” David winced. Ooh. The Help. The Standards had probably not liked that. He turned the envelope over and lifted the flap, pulling a cream colored card out from the inside.  “Dear David-...” David began to read. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Number 48 plucked the card out of David’s hands and took over reading. “Dear David 7, you are cordially invited to dinner at The Great Duke Bathin of Galectonium’s private estate. A ship will be deployed to pick you up from your residence at Stellar Firma and chauffeur you to Galactonium at two o’clock station time, two days hence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Warmest regards, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bathin Galactonium.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” David said, feeling his cheeks warm up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“An invitation to Bathin’s private home,” Number 48 said thoughtfully. “It could be a trap.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“It could be an opportunity,” Number One countered.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Oh, my,” David said, still dazed from the invitation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He should go,” Number one continued. “Look around. Get close to Bathin. Gather intel.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Yes,” purred Number 48. “Find out where the Galactoniums are weakest. And then when the time is right.” Number 48 punched their fist into their palm meaningfully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We don’t want to destroy the Galactoniums, Number 48,” sighed Number One. “They’re too exploitable. We just want to… exploit them more.” She turned to David suddenly. “Well, that’s settled then. You will accept this invitation and journey to Bathin’s private estate. Look around. Schmooze. Turn on the…” Number One frowned, doubtfully. “Charm.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I--what?” said David. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wear something more flattering than that old onesie this time, David 7,” suggested Number 48 as they rose from the table. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I own any clothes other than this old onesie!” David protested. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“See if you can’t take some pictures with your tablet and send them back. I’d like to know what kind of set up the Great Duke has inside of this private estate.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I don’t own a tablet!” said David. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In the interest of the company, all treasonous relationships will be forgiven. Do what you have to do, David 7,” concluded Number One. They met Number 48’s shaded gaze and gave a brief nod before the pair strode out in perfect unison</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Board,” David groaned. “What am I supposed to do with that?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vessel that arrived to pick David 7 up early the next afternoon was much smaller than the Turpsachorde Vont. It was narrow, elliptical, and painted a matte gray that was easily lost against the background of stars. David had been hoping that James or Bathin himself would be the one to come pick him up. Instead, he was greeted by a tall, dark figure who supported long, willowy limbs and appeared to be comprised of only two dimensions from certain angles. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Hello,” David said with a small wave as he approached the slim vessel in the landing bay.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dark creature bowed what David could only assume was its head. It didn’t say anything, but David felt a sudden intense vibration at the base of his skull that lasted for a few seconds before suddenly ceasing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, y-you as well,” David said, awe and apprehension renewed within him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The creature beckoned David into the small space vessel with one of its long, willowy limbs before climbing into its own secluded compartment at what was presumably the front of the vessel. David wondered if travelling in the smaller, sleeker vessel would help prevent him from getting motion sick.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two-planar pilot was traded for a human chauffeur at the spaceport on Galactonium. The human took one look at David 7’s green faced, shaky kneed form and muttered “Oh, no, not another one,” before clearing his throat and giving a short bow. “The Great Duke Bathin eagerly awaits your arrival, Mr. Seven,” she said. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>David belched gently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To the chauffeur’s credit, she only winced a little. She opened the door for David and bade him enter. “If you need to vomit, Mr. Seven… please use the ice bucket.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David did not end up vomiting by the time the motovehicle pulled up outside of the estate of The Great Duke; a feat for which David was feeling quite pleased with himself. The chauffeur opened the door for David and swept her arm out wide, indicating the whole estate. “Here you are, Mr. Seven. Have a very pleasant afternoon.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>David stepped out of the motovehicle and flinched, shading his eyes against the bright light. The last time he had been planet side the sun had already been setting. He never realized how bright the unfiltered light from an actual star would be. After several seconds spent blinking tears out of his eyes, David cautiously lowered his hand and gazed up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A brick path lay before him, twisting in graceful arches up a short hill and to the front of a lavish mansion, fronted in panels of grayish blues, soft pinks, and muted browns. Enormous windows made up the front of the structure, tinted so that from the outside the viewer would see only their own reflection. But what took David’s breath away was not the homestead itself, but rather the grounds surrounding it. David had seen pictures of forests and jungles before, but had never in his own life beheld so much green. The lawns had been allowed to grow high, dotted with bright wildflowers and swaying palm trees. A water feature had been carved, leading down from the house, looping around the hill, and once passing beneath the brick path before winding down and off of the property. David wandered to the edge of the path and peered down into the water. Slender, brightly spotted fish darted to and fro, snapping up the thin limbed insects that occasionally landed on the surface. David stood up and watched as a pair of green birds, or whatever feathered equivalent of birds had evolved on this planet, swooped from one tree to the next, chattering playfully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This must actually be paradise,” David said in awe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not bad,” the chauffeur conceded reluctantly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David turned to look back at the woman. “Do I just…?” he pointed up the path to the mansion’s entrance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The chauffeur shrugged and then remembered herself. “I suppose so. I was only hired to pick you up.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Oh, you’re not with-...?</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“David!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David spun around and saw James hurrying down the path. The man was in black trousers and white shirt sleeves, but the sleeves had been rolled up above his elbows and two dusty white handprints stood out on each of his pant legs. A black apron had been tied snugly around the man’s middle and was also dusted with white powder. A lock of dark hair fell free as James hurried down the path James absent mindedly brushed the lock back behind his ear. David noticed another smudge of white caught in the man’s eyebrow after he did so. James was grinning sheepishly by the time he reached David, an expression which David couldn’t help but return. “David I’m so sorry, I hope you weren’t waiting long, but you can’t leave a roux unattended.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sure,” David said, adding “roux” to his mental list of things to look up on IMOGEN later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you very much,” James said, addressing the chauffeur. “I’ll take it from here.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Very good,” the chauffeur said and returned to her motovehicle.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Sorry I had to hire someone out to come pick you up,” James said, turning around and waving David on to the mansion. “I got stuck on kitchen duty today. Well, I volunteered myself for kitchen duty. Accidentally. Kind of accidentally. I suggested to Bathin that we create a menu today better suited to people with sensitive stomachs and, well, he put me on the job.” James shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m babbling. Bathin got stuck on a diplomatic call, but he’ll be with you shortly. In the meantime, come with me to the kitchen. I have something for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sure,” David said. “I don’t mind.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>James swiped his palms across his trousers one last time before opening on the large, mahogany doors into the estate. The walls inside the front hall were carved with gilded panels which stretched to a vaulted ceiling. A crystal chandelier hung in the middle of the hall, not unlike the one hanging in the Turpsachorde Vont. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bathin’s great, great, great grandfather styled the original mansion after the fashion of Earth’s French Rococo period,” James began to recite almost by instinct as he led David briskly down the hallway. “The initial plan had been to mirror the mansion after the Sanssouci palace of Berlin. However, none of the original architectural documents had survived earth’s destruction, and all the builders had to base their plans off of were a few paintings of the interior from an old art student’s book of studies. Generous liberties were certainly taken. Since then, most of the rooms have been modernized, but the front hall has been left out of respect for the old duke.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, r-right,” David said, adding “Rococo” and “Berlin” to his list. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right in here.” James held open a swinging door allowing David to enter the room before him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This new room was brightly lit by one of those enormous, reflective windows David had seen from the outside. From the inside, however, he could see out into the backlot of the estate, where the gardens and lawns had been trimmed back and contained to allow for gatherings. A side door led out of the room to a small garden, just beginning to reveal tiny green sprouts in the early season. The room itself was warm and pungent with savory smells. A large wooden counter rested in the center of the room, covered in discarded vegetable roots, stems, leaves and peels, as well as a tray neatly arranged with balls of flour dusted dough. Four tall ovens were stacked alongside one wall with one more brick oven built into the wall itself with a wam blaze visible from within. Along the other wall were three tall coolers, each made of brushed steel which reflected David’s gaze back at him. At the end of the line of coolers was an enormous stove top, upon which a middle aged woman was briskly stirring something in a tall pot. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Took you long enough,” the woman snarked at James when she saw him enter. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Laverne, just a minute more please.” James walked over to the counter and began pushing the vegetable detritus around. “I’m sorry. I put them here so that I wouldn’t forget to give them to you, but then I went and buried them under all these leaves, and--ah! Here we are!” James turned around and pushed two small boxes into David’s hands. “Here you are. The blue ones are for nausea and the pink ones are for digestion. Take one before eating. Or flying. Whichever is appropriate.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David lifted the flap of one of the boxes and peered inside curiously. Inside was a paper sheet lined with several plastic blisters containing dusky pink pills. “Oh, thank you,” David said softly. For a moment, he felt tears begin to sting at the corners of his eyes. He sniffed and rubbed at them with the back of his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, was that okay?” James asked, alarmed. “I’m sorry, I should have asked if that was okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no,” David said quickly, now embarrassed on top of emotional. “It’s just… I think this is the first time someone has given me something. Something that they actually got special just for me, anyway… Well… Well Trexel went and got me moisturizer once but then he… he just drank it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>James stared at David silently for a moment before slowly asking “Should I… umm… is moisturizer a thing I should, umm… should add? To the menu?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no! No!” David declared and James let out a sigh and muttered “Oh, thank goodness.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” David repeated firmly. “No, that one is just a Trexel thing. I think. I hope.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well, in that case,” James said, quickly recovering with a smile. “Dinner will be a light cream soup with leeks and mushrooms and fresh rolls on the side. And for desert there will be creme caramel. How does that sound?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David smiled wanly. “I have no idea what any of that is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“James,” snapped Laverne from her position at the stove top, “Are you going to take this back over, or what?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Oh, sorry,” James declared, hurrying over. Laverne passed the wooden spoon over to James and marched briskly out. “She was kind enough to watch the soup for me while I came out to meet you,” James explained, briskly stirring the soup. “She’s actually supposed to be taking over for a night guard’s shift but she happened to be passing by, so I-...” James blew a breath out between his teeth and then laughed. “I’m sorry, you didn’t ask, I just…”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>David found himself smiling. The last time he and James had been together, the two of them had said very little to each other. This had largely been due to the fact that David had been focusing on either not vomiting, or vomiting into a small bucket for their entire acquaintance. Now, however, David was beginning to suspect that James was a bit of a chatterbox. ‘Like Trexel,’ David thought, ‘but in a much more enjoyable way.’ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” David replied. “It’s actually nice to talk about things other than Stellar Firma.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The swinging door into the kitchen flew open with a bang. “David 7!” boomed Bathin’s strong, cheerful voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David spun around and took in his host. Today the great duke was dressed in a cleanly cut, sharply tailored suit. His trousers and waistcoat were of an antique gold color, and his shirt was a soft blue to match his hair. His coat had been left behind somewhere, and his tie had been loosened in order to undo the top three buttons of his dress shirt. A few tempting curls peak out. “I’m glad you made it!” Bathin continued. He strode over to David with his arms outstretched. “How was your flight? Sorry I couldn’t pick you up myself, but…” Bathin rolled his eyes. “Business came up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it was, uh…” David forcibly dragged his eyes up and away from the small triangle of Bathin’s exposed chest and to the man’s eyes. “It was alright, I-...” he reached out a hand uncertainly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rather than take his hand, Bathin enveloped Daivd in a hug that lifted him bodily off of his feet. “Glad to hear it!” the Great Duke declared before setting David back downt. David swayed unsteadily for a moment, drunk on the warm smell of cologne and Bathin’s skin. “You never know with these intergalactic shuttle companies sometimes; but as long as we didn’t have a repeat of your first flight it must have been an improvement, eh?” Bathin laughed. He clasped David’s shoulder and turned him around to the door. “Come with me, David! It’s only been a short few days, but what an adventure I’ve had! I’ve something to show you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right, o-okay!” David said, falling into step beside Bathin. He paused at the doorway long enough to wave James a quick goodbye. James tipped David a wink and then flapped his hand at him, shooing him out. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey, guys! Sorry this chapter took so much longer to get up! Not only did I have a few commissions to finish before Christmas, but, well, I actually ended up finding a job which started two weeks ago. Training has been stressful, but I'm going to give it the old college try for now.</p><p>I ended up splitting the next chapter in to two parts because I wanted you guys to have something to read now; you've all been so patient and lovely. This chapter is pretty slow, but we'll be getting some flirting and smooching in the next one; I promise!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Kisses and cupcakes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bathin and David establish a routine, David gets a kiss and prepares to get an education in cupcakes.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bathin lead David 7 through the manor at a brisk pace, gesturing to a painting here or a knick there, and saying things like “And this  is the painting of the Princess Rjyekavin of Falthorn, gifted to my crew and I after we stopped the invasion of her kingdom by the RjenRjen,” or “And this is the bauble discovered in the previously unexplored caves of Bartswald during my second year of university.” </p><p>At first, David tried to stop to admire the prizes that Bathin was showing him. However it seemed that Bathin was too excited to show him the results of his latest adventure as he never paused in his stride nor slowed down his long legged pace for David to catch up. At last, Bathin came to a halt in front of a thick, bronze door with an electronic security pad on the side. Bathin pressed his finger to the little screen on the pad which caused a slim tray to pop out. Bathin spit into the tray and then glanced back over his shoulder to give David an apologetic smile. The tray closed and the security console hummed for a moment before the large door released with a pressurized hiss. Bathin pressed his shoulder against the door, easing it in and waving David along eagerly. The next room was lit in a dim, blue glow and was much cooler; almost chilly. Here, the portraits on the walls were covered by protective polycarbonate shields mounted air tight to the walls, and trinkets stood on pedestals, similarly protected. Inside of low cases  were books; old and delicate with yellowed pages. David could see no way to reach the books inside. Instead, there appeared to be small robot arms which could manipulate the pages per the viewer’s wishes. He wandered over to admire such a book. The language was foreign to him, but drawn all around the pages were scrolls of faded leaves and flowers which had undoubtedly once been quite vibrant. </p><p>“David 7, over here,” Bathin called eagerly. David turned around to see Bathin standing at the far end of the room where a table had been laid out with a set of fine tools and cleaning materials. David quickly made his way over. There was a small object in the middle of the table wrapped in a pale cloth. Bathin sat down and delicately unwrapped the bundle, revealing a small metal dragon. The dragon had hinged legs and an intricately sculpted face upon a multi-sectioned neck which appeared to be able to swing to and fro. “A piece of the legendary treasure of  Tasslethorpe, discovered just days ago by my cousin, Rakewell, and liberated by my crew and I! Of course,” Bathin looked up at David, his eyes practically gleaming with excitement, “when we were forced to leave you at that restaurant, my crew and I were certain that we were going to rescue Rakewell from yet another drunken brawl. But the man had actually done it! He had tracked down the treasure! Look at this!” Bathin turned the small dragon over in his hands so that its shiny metal belly was facing up and picked a small, thin tool off of the table. He used this tool to open up an otherwise invisible hatch on the creature’s belly and expose the intricate clockwork mechanisms on the inside.</p><p> David’s eyes grew round with wonder. His world was built on silicon chips and electronic wiring. He had never before seen cogs and gears meshed together to form a working structure. He reached a hand out to touch the tiny gears.</p><p>“No, don’t!” Bathin snapped, snatching the dragon away. David jumped, His face clouding with shame and confusion. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” Bathin breathed, carefully setting the metal dragon back on the tablet and wrapping it back up. “It's not your fault. I should have warned you. It’s a very, very old machine, David 7, and I have to use very special tools to clean it. I can’t risk getting any contaminants in there. Not even the oil from your fingers…” Bathin gave his head another little shake. “No harm done,” he said at last, giving David his best, charming smile. “I’ll have it cleaned and working soon, and I’ll let you handle it then.” </p><p>“I’d like to see how you clean it,” David said, relaxing.</p><p>Bathin stood, waving his hand. “Oh, no, it’s very boring and tedious work, David 7. Very small tools moving very slowly. You’ll be much more interested in the finished project, I assure you. Anyway!” Bathin clapped his hands together. “Let's have a snack and a drink, David 7! We’ve a few hours to go before Dinner and I want to take you on a tour of the city!” </p><p>***</p><p>The tour turned out to be a walking tour which suited David just fine. He was much less likely to get motion sick that way. Bathin had a lovely, sonorous voice which David enjoyed listening to; even after the point his brain stopped processing all the information about the city and planet that Bathin was dumping on him. It was pleasing enough just to hear the rise and fall of his voice. </p><p>Most of the people that they passed raised a hand to wave to Bathin or gave him a nod; gestures which Bathin seemed to return on reflex rather than by thought. Several came up to greet the Great Duke personally. Bathin was always kind enough to give the man or woman a minute or two of his attention and a firm handshake before moving on. After a while, David began to notice that many of the people they passed were giving him odd looks. At first, David thought that perhaps it was because of his pied skin tones, but after seeing humans with skin hues of gray, violet, and even a deep crimson red, David decided that that likely wasn’t the issue. Then he thought maybe it was because he was out accompanying the Duke. But after realizing that nobody else seemed to have any problem with coming up and joining their conversation, being in the duke’s company didn’t seem too unusual either. The only other thing David noticed that was different between him and all the other humans on the planet was… the onesie. The people of this planet wore loose, breathy clothing befitting the warm and humid atmosphere. Open toed shoes, gauzy shawls, flowing skirts, and open shirts. David realized that it was probably too warm to be out in a boiler suit, but he had become so well adjusted to being hot and slimy in his short life that he hadn’t even noticed. Number 48 had told David to purchase some more appropriate clothing to visit the duke, but frankly, David didn’t see the point in investing in multiple pieces of fabric to construct one outfit when one piece could construct a perfectly serviceable outfit just fine. </p><p>Aside from that, he had looked on IMOGEN to see what his options for clothing purchases on the station were. He still only had access to the clone onesie, and he wasn’t eligible to buy another for three more months. He had just replaced his last one after Trexel had gotten drunk and ripped the zipper off to use an improvised musical instrument for Cabaret Night at the Cosmic Lounge.</p><p>Which, as it had turned out, he had been banned from attending, anyway. </p><p>“Er, Bathin,” David said. “Maybe we should go back now?” </p><p>“By the Seven Stars, your right!” Bathin declared. “You can’t be fashionably late to dinner when you’re the only ones attending!” </p><p>And with that, Bathin spun around on his heel and started back, all long limbs and muscular shoulders silhouetted against the sunset as he walked in front of David.</p><p>***</p><p>Bathin took a cocktail before dinner and did his best to convince David to have one as well. David remained steadfast in his resolution that he would prefer water; though at the last second he called James back to him with a “Well, actually?”</p><p>“Yes?” James said, coming back into the dining hall. </p><p>“Do you have any of that white stuff that they serve with coffee? I actually quite liked that.”</p><p>Bathin frowned. “David 7, that’s not…” he began to say.</p><p>“It’s not what?” David said, looking back at Bathin with such gentle innocence that Bathin immediately closed his mouth around his denial. </p><p>“It’s not-...” Bathin tried again, floundering to cover his tracks.</p><p>“In stock in the kitchen right now,” James covered for Bathin. “But I’ll have Fluer nip out to the market and buy some.”</p><p>“Yes, of course,” Bathin agreed and cleared his throat as James briskly left the dining room. </p><p>Bathin and David sat at a small, circular table draped with a lace cloth and simply decorated with a vase of green and blue flowers. David had admitted that he had been expecting an enormous table, long enough to seat dozens of friends and a few extra dignitaries. Bathin had laughed and shook his curls. “Oh, no David 7,” he had replied. “There’s an entirely separate dining room for entertaining large parties. It would be absurd to prepare the whole room for just you and I. Besides,” Bathin smiled warmly down at David. “I’d prefer a much more intimate environment to get to know you.”</p><p>David 7 flushed. At first he found himself thinking that Bathin couldn’t possibly have realized how flirtatious that had sounded. Upon second consideration, however, seeing how freely Bathin gave away his charming smile and gentle touches, it was likely that Bathin knew exactly how coquettish his behaviour came off. So they sat, Bathin’s knees almost close enough to brush against David’s under the table and waited for James to return with their drinks.</p><p>“So,” Bathin began, resting his chin upon his palm. “How is life up on the station? How are folks adjusting to the change?” </p><p>“Well,” David hesitated, wondering if he should tell Bathin the truth. He took a quick breath and plunged boldly on. “We aren’t, really. We’re all just kind of floating around, wondering what to do. No one has heard from The Board in ages and Standards are just…” David bit his lip and then looked up at Bathin. “Can I… Can I tell you a secret?”</p><p>Bathin’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Of course!” he leaned in close to David.</p><p>David swallowed hard. The man really did smell far too nice. “Well, the Standards,” he continued quietly and a bit hoarsely. “The Standards seem to think that you took an interest in me because you’re trying to get inside information on Stellar Firma… and the only reason they’re letting me leave the station to visit you is because they want me to… counterspy?” </p><p>“Oh what?” Bathin scoffed. </p><p>“Areas of exploitation, apparently,” David muttered.</p><p>“And what do you mean, ‘letting you leave’?” Bathin continued. “You’re a free clone. They can’t tell you where you can and can’t go anymore!”</p><p>“Well, no, they can’t,” David sighed. “But at the same time they really can… Number 48 has a hammer… and Number One has all the access codes for IMOGEN… I guess it wouldn’t be a problem if I just never went back, but I have friends there… but there’s Enola and Harry… and Hartro a bit, and… and…” David sighed and muttered under his breath. “Trexel, I guess.” </p><p>“Alright, then.” Bathin shrugged. “I’ll give you some information to take back with you. Maybe if I make up something scandalous enough the Standards will loosen the old leash a little, eh?” </p><p>“S-sorry?”</p><p>“I’ll write some cyphers,” Bathin continued. “I used to like inventing them when I was a kid. Got quite good at it as well, I think. Maybe statements about money in offshore banks or property purchases; nothing specific enough to be verifiable, but with just enough information to be potentially scandalous.” </p><p>“You mean lie?”</p><p>“Do you have a problem with lying?”</p><p>“Oh, no.” David shook his head. “Constantly lying is the only way I was able to survive working on a team with Trexel.” </p><p>Bathin blinked in surprise and then threw his head back with a laugh. “Oh, yes, that sounds about right for old Trexel boy! What a card. You know, I actually tricked him into locking himself outside of an air lock at university once.”</p><p>“Oh, yes, he told me that. Well, he tells it a bit differently.”</p><p>“No worries. Ah.” Bathin sat back and grinned as James returned with his cock tail and a short glass of cream on a tray. “Here we are.” He took his glass and raised it in toast. David realized very soon afterwards that he was meant to do the same. “Well then, David 7, to the first of many, many meetings!” </p><p>David caught James’ eye over Bathin’s shoulder. The man shrugged and smiled. He silently raised his own hand, cupped around an imaginary glass and mouthed “Cheers.” </p><p>David smiled and clinked his glass against Bathin’s. </p><p>***</p><p>After dinner, Bathin lead David to a sitting room lit by a dim chandelier hanging in the center of the room and an actual wood burning fireplace against the outside wall. Aligned along one wall were rows of bookshelves containing knick knacks, stationary supplies, photographs, and a few books. In the center of the room, arranged to view the fireplace were two plush armchairs on either side of a long couch with a cozy looking throw blanket draped over the back. There was a round, wooden end table between each end of the couch and adjacent armchairs. Bathin set his glass of wine upon one of these end tables and gestured for David to sit down. </p><p>“Make yourself comfortable, David 7,” said Bathin, walking over to the bookshelf. “I’ll be right there.” </p><p>David settled himself on one end of the couch and watched as Bathin selected a pad of paper and pen from the bookshelf. ‘An actual letter written on actual paper,’ David remembered, smiling to himself as Bathin returned and seated himself on the other end of the couch. He crossed one leg over the other and balanced the pad of paper over his knee. “Alright… what is believable to find on a scrap of paper just lying around? Oh!” Bathin grinned at David 7. “What about just a random string of numbers? Do you think the Standards would drive themselves crazy trying to decide if its a code or an account?”</p><p>“I wouldn’t know,” David replied, grinning back. </p><p>“No, no,” Bathin sighed, tapping his pen against his lip. “No, who would leave just a strip of numbers lying around? Oh, but maybe I’ll write a fake account out…” Bathin began writing, “and give you the page underneath it. So I don’t seem like a fool who just leaves easy bait lying around, and you look very clever for spotting the impression! Oh, this is great fun.” Bathin paused, frowning thoughtfully before he broke into an even wider grin. “I’ll add a name beneath the numbers. Give them an extra mystery to solve. Let’s see. How about Rita De’monte?”</p><p>“Who is Rita De’monte?” David asked.</p><p>“Name of my first hamster,” Bathin replied. He tore the top piece of paper out of the pad, balled it up, and tossed it neatly into the fire. He then tore the second page off and handed it to David. “Here you are,” said Bathin. “For the benefit of our future meetings.”</p><p>“Right, thank you,” David said, taking the piece of paper and staring at it almost dreamily. People kept giving him things today. Things that were actually  meant to help him. It was… nice. </p><p>“Right,” Bathin leaned back and spread his arms across the back of the couch. “You still need to be back at the station at midnight?” </p><p>“That’s what the Standards said last time,” David said, attempting to tuck the note into his pocket without folding or bending it. </p><p>“Right, then,” Bathin pulled out his tablet. “I’ll just set an alarm for when we need to get you out of here, and… there.” Bathin smiled as he tucked his tablet away again. “The evening is ours, David 7. Would you like to hear about how my crew and I rescued the lost treasure of Tasslethorpe?”</p><p>“Oh, yes, please,” Said David, eagerly leaning forward. </p><p>***</p><p>A sharp chime sounded from Bathin’s tablet when the time came for David to leave. Bathin used his tablet to summon James to pick David up and see him home. Bathin saw David to the gate and then bade him farewell with a fond smile and a tight hug. Once David was in the motovehicle, James passed him a water bottle and reminded him to take the motion sickness tablet. On the drive back, James asked David how the food had settled with his stomach that evening, and whether or not he had enjoyed the flavor. He went on to talk to David about what other things he could have prepared for David to eat, and what he might like to try next time. David asked about Jame’s cooking experience and learned that James had grown up on a satellite moon of Galectonium. He lived with his three siblings, parents, and his parents’ parents who all made a living working with a special type of moth that produced glowing silk. The family saw largely to their own estate and needs so skills like cleaning, cooking, and simple repairs were all passed down to the children.</p><p>Eventually, as often happens with aged grandparents, his grandmother fell ill. She had been taken to a specialized hospital on Galactonium for treatment. Flying back and forth between Galactonium and its moon got to be very expensive very quickly, and the silk farm couldn’t afford to keep up with the hospital’s bills without its senior weavers continuing to grow and collect silk, so James had volunteered to move planet side to keep his grandmother company while she recovered.</p><p>James made an appointment with a Galactonium tailor who often bought his family’s glowing silks. The tailor had said that she might be able to help him get a job as long as he was living planet-side. After reviewing James’ skill set, the tailor mentioned that he might be able to get him a job as a man servant with one of his clients.</p><p>James had no idea that “one of his clients” was going to mean The Great Duke of Galectonium.</p><p>James worked well with the duke. Bathin was friendly and without airs, and was often content to work privately on his own projects at home when he wasn’t away adventuring with his friends. James’ daily routine consisted of cooking, tidying up, reviewing and fixing schedules as needed, attending to the complaints of the other manor employees, and running personal errands for the duke as needed. </p><p>For a time, James’ grandmother seemed to be on the mend. Then, one day, an infection developed after a routine surgery, and in the heat of the ensuing fever she lost her memories, her cognisance, and her life.</p><p>James returned home to mourn with his family, but after a time had passed he began to find that he was missing the friends he had made planet-side, as well as the work at Bathin’s estate that allowed him to freely travel and meet new people. He had messaged Bathin one day to ask if there was still a job for him to return to. Bathin had said of course and welcomed him back with open arms.</p><p>And James had remained there since, both out of gratitude and friendship for The Great Duke. </p><p>David smiled. This seemed to confirm what he was beginning to suspect about Bathin. The Great Duke was, by nature, very kind, but he was also very private with his hobbies. David wondered what it might be like to work for someone who treated you like a friend.</p><p>The two arrived at Stellar Firma with ten minutes to spare before midnight. James walked David down to the bottom of the ramp and bade him farewell. “Look forward to seeing you soon,” James said. </p><p>“Y-you too,” David said, feeling a faint flush on his cheeks. He had never experienced so much warm and open affection from so many people, and he definitely wanted to get used to it.</p><p>The Standards were waiting for him when he entered the station.</p><p>“Well,” said Number 48. “What of the Duke? Did you find anything odd?”</p><p>“Oh, I, uh…” David reached into his pocket and pulled out the note. “I noticed this on Bathin’s desk… it's probably nothing.” </p><p>Number 48 snatched the paper out of David’s hand and squinted at it. “What is this?” they muttered.</p><p>Number One plucked the paper from their hands and held it up to the light. “Probably nothing,” they said. “It looks like a phone number.”</p><p>“And maybe a name,” added Number 48, poking the paper.</p><p>“Useless, I’m sure,” said Number One. “I’m sure The Great Duke wouldn’t just write down sensitive information, but…” They briskly folded the paper up and tucked into their breast pocket. “We’ll be hanging on to this, just in case.”</p><p>“Sure,” said David. Feeling a bit bold he added “I’ll try to do better next time?”</p><p>“See that you do,” said Number One briskly, and the pair of standards marched sharply off. </p><p>***<br/>For the next couple of weeks, David 7 and Bathin established a routine. Bathin would invite David out to dinner two or three times a week, either at his manor or some local restaurant.. The Great Duke himself showed up to pick up David a couple of times, but more often than not David was met by the dark, two dimensional pilot who James had hired to pick him up the first time. Sometimes James would pick David up from the space por+t and the two would get a chance to chat on the drive over; or Bathin would be busy when they arrived back at the manor and David would have a few minutes to catch up with James and the rest of the staff. James was, as David had first suspected, a shameless chatterbox and loved to talk about anything. A new knife he had bought, the technique used to forge the steel, the cashier’s accent and how her people had historically come to migrate to Galactonium, a store he had passed on his way home and how it had been a different store two years ago. James’ mind bounced from subject to subject with the slightest provocation, and he was always happy to share what he knew on any given topic.</p><p>Then Bathin would meet with David. He’d show him his progress on the tiny, mechanical dragon. Bathin could now use the creature’s tail as a key to wind the mechanism up. The wings folded in and out and the mouth moved with tiny, popping jerks, but the neck still remained stiff and gave tiny little creaks and pops as the gears within tried to move. Bathin would then often take David on tours around the city, sometimes even for a short flight in the Turpsachorde Vont if they had enough time. Then the two would have dinner before retiring to Bathin’s lounge to rest and chat. They’d decide whether or not David had “happened” upon some information during his visit and what it would be about. So far, the narrative they were spinning was that the Great Dukehad been receiving money from an offshore bank account managed by someone who was, apparently, his first childhood hamster. Bathin would catch David up on his work throughout the week which unfortunately was, as David learned, often more politics than it was adventuring. Though when the subject did turn to adventures, Bathin’s face came to life and his eyes lit up with an inner glow that made David’s palms sweat and his heart pound. </p><p>Towards the end of the night an alarm would sound from Bathin’s tablet and Bathin would call James in to pick David up and return him to the station. Sometimes James was allowed to take the Turpsachorde Vont and fly him all the way home. Sometimes there would be a separate pilot waiting at the space port to fly David the rest of the way. James would ask David about the food he had eaten and how he had felt about it. James would then start planning a menu for David’s next visit. David would then ask James for clarification on something Bathin had told him or shown him that he hadn’t quite understood, and James would do his best to explain. This would often result in James once remembering something he had read in an article or watched in a documentary, which would then remind him of something else he was doing at the time, and would often continue to spiral away form the original topic of conversation until they somehow ended up discussing indigenous fabric prints or the non-native species of marine mammals that had taken over the oceans of some distant planet’s moon. </p><p>David would enter Stellar Firma giddy and with his head spinning. He’d slip whatever piece of bogus intel he and Bathin had come up with for that visit to the Standards and drop exhausted into his bed; often after tipping Trexel out of it first. </p><p>It was at the end of the third week of this routine that David found himself sitting on Bathin’s couch across from the Great Duke. It was near the time the alarm would sound, informing the pair that it was time for David to leave to meet his curfew. Bathin had been telling David about his next planned outing with his crew of the Turpsachorde Vont. A week long trip to visit and explore a new moon which had mysteriously been dropped into the orbit of a planet in the next galaxy over. Superficial probes had revealed signs that life had once been present on the planet’s surface. Bathin intended to find out if life still continued within. </p><p>“I’d like to see that,” said David wistfully.</p><p>“I’d like to have you with me, David 7, but…” Bathin frowned thoughtfully, swirling a dark amber liquid round and round the tumbler in his hand. “That’s a bit of a tall order for your first proper adventure. More than likely there will be nothing there, but if there is… I couldn’t risk you.” </p><p>“I’ve handled plenty of danger,” replied David, thinking back on Hartro and her “training” methods. “I’m tougher than I look.”</p><p>Bathin smiled, meeting David’s gaze again. “Oh, I know David 7. Every week I am absolutely astounded by your remarkable resilience, but… when I take you out with me, and I promise I will someday, it will be under circumstances I can control A situation I know better. My crew knows what dangers are out there. I’ll not risk you on a gamble that might not pay off.”</p><p>“Oh, alright,” David said with a sigh. He dropped his gaze and stared at his hands, wringing in his lap. He knew Bathin meant well, and for that matter he knew that Bathin probably wasn’t even wrong, but it always felt to him like there were only a few activities that the Duke ever wanted to do with him and he could not be convinced to stray from his norm. David heard Bathin set his glass down on the end table.</p><p>“David, look up at me,” Bathin said gently. David peered up. Bathin leaned in close and curled a finger under his chin, tilting his face up towards his. His gaze danced between David’s eyes for a moment before his hand moved to cup David’s jaw, his thumb brushing along beneath his eye. “You really have the most wonderful eyes to look at,” said the Great Duke. “One like honey and the other like chocolate.” </p><p>David flushed and stammered. His face felt hot where Bathin touched him. “I-i-it’s a clone thing, umm… the repeated cloning p-process allows f-for more genetic mutations, so I… I…” David swallowed hard and Bathin smiled softly. “Y’know, the, uh, the different colored eyes, uh, and the, uh, white in the hair and the uh…” Bathin was leaning in closer. David felt like he was going to combust. “Vi-vitiligo.” </p><p>Bathin was staring very pointedly at his lips. David’s brain firmly told him that this would never happen, so obviously it wasn’t happening. The message that David’s eyes were sending was confusing his brain greatly. </p><p>“I like it a lot,” Bathin whispered. His other hand came to rest at the base of David’s neck and he closed the remaining distance. David’s mouth was hard and unyielding beneath Bathin’s, and Bathin quickly pulled away, looking worried. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Did you not want that?”</p><p>“N-no!” David said quickly. “I mean yes! I mean, I did! I do! I just…” David hesitated, embarrassed. “I’m not really sure how?” </p><p>Bathin’s gaze softened again and he smiled. “Oh, that’s alright then.” He leaned back into David’s space and guided one of David’s hands to his hip. The other he took and placed against his own cheek. “Just let your mouth… move against mine. Do what feels nice. You don’t have to clench your jaw. Do you... want to try again?”</p><p>David nodded vigorously.</p><p>Bathin chuckled and returned his own hands to David’s face and hair. “I’m glad,” he murmured and leaned in to kiss David again. </p><p>For a moment, David stiffened up again. He felt hot all over, all too conscious of the places he was touching Bathin, and of the places that Bathin was touching him. Then he felt Bathin’s lips move against his, a gentle pressure, touching, pushing, and sucking very gently at his lips. For a moment he let his eyes fall closed and just felt what Bathin was giving to him. Bathin would kiss his lips, then the corner of his mouth, then his jaw before returning to his lips. His fingers carded through his hair while his other hand held his face, thumb stroking over his cheekbone as he angled his face the way he wanted it for more kisses. And at last David felt the rhythm of it. He loosened his jaw and let his lips press against Bathin’s, returning the gentle, sucking pressure. He felt Bathin’s mouth turn up in a smile and he tilted David’s chin up, scooting in to kiss him more deeply.</p><p>The alarm from Bathin’s tablet sounded, informing the pair that it was time for David to leave to meet his curfew. Bathing pulled away from David with an irritated groan. He pulled his tablet out of his trouser’s pocket and glared at the screen. “Isn’t that just the way these things go?” he grumbled and then sighed, looking at David. “Well… it’s not the ideal ending to our night, but there’s no reason why we can’t pick up next time where we left off, is there?” </p><p>“N-no,” David said, smiling dreamily. “I guess not.” </p><p>“Well, then…” Bathin tapped a couple of buttons on the tablet screen before returning it to his pocket. “Best we don’t keep James waiting, then.” He gently cupped David’s face between both hands and bent it forward to kiss the crown of the clone’s head before standing. </p><p>David floated to his feet and trailed after Bathin, feeling a little like he was walking in zero G. For months he had entertained a fantasy of the great adventurer, Bathin Galactonium bursting into Stellar Firma and sweeping him away in his luxurious space yacht to live a life of romance and passion. It had merely been a fantasy to get him through the day. Never had he imagined that his dreams would ever bear any resemblance to real life. And yet here he was, in Bathin’s private estate, the duke’s kisses still hot on his lips as he trailed after the man himself. Surely, this was where life peaked. This was when everything finally came together and made sense. </p><p>Bathin lead David outside and the warm, humid air came almost like a slap to David’s face. David’s fantasies had always ended at Bathin’s kiss, but now here he was at the after. To when he had to go home. To when he had to face The Standards. To cold cups of sour slurry, and to having to tip a drunken Trexel out of his cot before he could go to bed himself.</p><p>“Coming?” Bathin asked, startling David out of his thoughts. David blinked and realized the man had started down the path to the gate without him.</p><p>“O-oh, right, sorry,” David called before hurrying after the Duke. Bathin gave him a smile and then placed his hand on its familiar position on David’s back, gently guiding him forward.</p><p>James was waiting for them just outside the gates, resting against the hood of the motovehicle and playing some game on his tablet. He jumped when he noticed Bathin and David approaching and quickly shoved the tablet into his back pocket, looking rather embarrassed. “Your Grace, Mr. Seven,” said James, quickly adopting his manner of perfect professionalism. “Good evenin.”</p><p>“Good evening, James,” said Bathin. “It’s that time again.”</p><p>“I’ll see him home safely, your Grace,” replied James with a short nod. </p><p>“Of course. Travel safely.” Bathin turned his gaze from James back down to David and smiled fondly. He brushed a curled finger along David’s cheekbone. “See you soon.”</p><p>David felt himself blushing hot. A quick glance to the side revealed James very pointedly not watching them. “Y-yes,” said David. “I... “ he swallowed and smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.” </p><p>Bathin chuckled and then stepped back. “Alright, James, he’s all yours.” </p><p>James opened the passenger side door and waved David in. David climbed in and settled down, reaching for a bottle of water from the compartment behind Jame’s chair almost out of habit. James started the motovehicle and began to pull away from the manor as David fished one of the motion sickness tablets out of his pocket and downed it with a hearty gulp. He glanced out the window and saw Bathin still standing at the curb, waving as they drove away. David smiled shyly and waved back for a moment before settling back into his seat.</p><p>He and James drove in silence for a while.</p><p>At last, James cleared his throat. “So…” he said. “Any plans for the next few days?”</p><p>“No,” sighed David. “Do a little work. Try to keep Trexel out of my things. You?”</p><p>“I’m going to visit my folks in a week,” James replied. “I’ve got to start getting ready for that. Oh,” James snapped his fingers, “that reminds me. I’ve still got to help the chef work out a menu for Bathin while I’m gone. If left to his own devices, Bathin will eat nothing but canapés all weekend.”</p><p>“Are canapés good?” asked David.</p><p>“Oh, they’re delicious, but they’re practically all bread. He’d get so bloated.”</p><p>David gave a wistful little sigh. “I miss baking.”</p><p>James glanced at David with surprise. “You bake?”</p><p>“Yes. Well, no. Well, kind of? I tried running a little cafe on Stellar Firma for a little bit. Nothing fancy, just… coffee and cupcakes.”</p><p>“David, you are a man of endless surprises,” said James, grinning. </p><p>“I really liked making the cupcakes… well, they weren’t like real cupcakes, were they? They were just slurry I had shaped to look like cupcakes.” David sighed. “They probably didn’t even taste like real cupcakes.” </p><p>“You never tried one?”</p><p>“Tried what?”</p><p>“One of the slurry cupcakes?”</p><p>“Oh, no, I had plenty of those. I’ve never had a real cupcake.” </p><p>James’s eyes went wide. “You’ve never had a real cupcake?” he whispered, astonished. He smacked himself on the forehead. “No, of course you wouldn’t have, would you? That’s street fair kind of food. That’s not the sort of thing Bathin would have fed you! Egad, I bet you’ve never had cotton candy or pretzels or popcorn, either!”</p><p>“Umm… no?”</p><p>“David,” James said, glancing quickly over at the clone. “I know I’m supposed to have you back to the station by midnight but… do you want to try a cupcake?”</p><p>David sat up in his seat, his eyes lighting up. “Yes!”</p><p>“David, can I… hold on.” James pulled to the side of the road and let the motovehicle idle. “I can’t believe I never thought about this before. You’ve only ever been to Stellar Firma and to Bathin’s estate, right? You’ve never just, y’know… hung out around town, have you?”</p><p>“Er, no,” said David.</p><p>“Is it alright if I call a couple of friends?” said James, his eyes glowing with a sudden eagerness. “I want to take you downtown to hang out. If… if you’re okay with it, of course.”</p><p>“Ummm,” said David uncertainly. There were always the Standards to think about. Defying their wishes did not tend to have enjoyable consequences. But on the other hand, what could they do to him, really, when Bathin expected his company to be whole and unmarred? And aside from that, James looked excited to be able to share something new. David was rapidly finding that his favorite thing about James was how eager the man was to share everything he had with him. “Yeah, okay,” David said at last with a shy smile.</p><p>“Excellent,” said James. He dug his tablet out of his back pocket and began tapping rapidly on the screen. “Just hold on a moment while I get everyone.” James paused and sighed. “I’m going to look like a proper bellend dressed like this downtown… don’t tell Bathin I said that.” </p><p>“Wouldn’t dream of it,” replied David.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oof! Remember how I said I didn't want to make you guys wait two weeks for a new chapter? How about three weeks instead? It turns out working a regular nine-to-five really takes it out of you after seven months of unemployment.</p><p>Also, did I ever warn you guys that this fic was going to be just stupid sweet? Like cloyingly sticky? I'm all down for chaos and drama, but at this time and in this place I just want to give a good boy some nice things, so yeah. The alternate title to this fic really should just be "David has some lovely experiences".</p><p>At any rate, thank you all so much for reading! You all are wonderful!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Not Dead Yet (Art)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bathin Galactonium welcomes you aboard the Turpsachorde Vont.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oh, man, the past three months? Working at that job? Not ideal. But I'm back for a bit, so let's get back to finishing this story!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>